The Cylon Wars
by Illuviar
Summary: On the eve of the Colonies fall, a certain Model Six starts experiencing memories that could not possibly be real. Fragments from a past that could never be. It all started when she was ordered to assassinate a certain Admiral a day before the Plan was to be executed. It's too bad that she remembers him from a life a Cylon could not have lived...
1. Prologue&Chapter 1 Parts 1&2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **The Cylon Wars**

 **=TCW=**

 **Prologue:**

 **Requiem for a dream**

* * *

 **Caprica City**

 **Caprica**

"It's all happened before..." The blond woman trailed off and smiled at the sleeping man she had been studying for the last hour or so.

Her eyes crinked in grimace. The years hadn't been kind to him. She could see it clearly – the man had shrunk, if she didn't know better, the blonde would have believed him to be almost a head shorter from the last time she saw him. His once raven black hair was mostly snow white with a bit of gray sprinkled in it. His face – it was almost a mockery made of leather like skin and deep worry lines.

She averted her eyes, glancing at the nearby window and looked at her reflection. A face that the humans would consider beautiful stared back, framed by shoulder length blond hair. She should be smiling, preparing to execute her part of the plan.

She should be cheerful, rejoicing even, because the colonials, the hated humanity had mere hours to live… and all she had to do was kill a single man. The model Six Cylon looked at her lap where her hands were clutching a silenced pistol. It would be so easy. She had to just raise her arm, point the gun and press the trigger.

Her eyes returned to the slumbering human. He was a ghost anyway. A pale shadow of the man she loved a lifetime ago.

Before she was chosen.

Before she became something more and transcedented mere blood and flesh.

 _Before we were captured!_ A small, treacherous voice screamed in the back of her head.

 _Before the experiments!_ Images flashed in front of her eyes. Old, war era Centurions were leaning over her, their red eyes flashing mercilessly.

The Six shook her head. She knew what she had to do. What was the right thing. She had to finish her mission, then it would be best to just shoot herself so after her resurrection the corrupt code could be purged from her.

It would be for the best. That should silence the voice. Or perhaps it would finally shut the frak up once she shot the man.

 _Frak that! They'll just cut us again! Or just box us!_ The Six shuddered. Here body convulsed with phantom pains, feeling cold steel slicing into her flesh.

It was all wrong! This wasn't her, just that poor human that was used as her template… Here plump lips parted in a silent "O". There wasn't supposed to be a template for the Bio-Cylons. They should represent the best of that flawed creation called humanity, not be just copies of individual people… She shouldn't remember… There was nothing to remember…

"Helena..." a gravel, yet familiar voice whispered. It made her heart beat faster, her chest constricting around it.

She looked up. The man was sitting in his bed, a look of utter shock on his face. The Six couldn't help it and smiled, then grimaced as her head was wracked by pain. She raised a shaking arm, the gun trembling in her hand. The old man snapped his mouth shut and stared stared at her. She could see his eyes shifting from longing to defiance and back again.

She lined up her shot, the muzzle pointing straight between his eyes. Her finger started gently squeezing the trigger, then stopped. The Six was no longer starring at the old wizened man. Instead she was seeing a roughly handsome man, wearing the sharp looking uniform of the Picon military, with a brand new captain's insignia.

The Cylon gritted her teeth. He was a damn ghost, who was better off dead! Just like the one, this Helena, that lurked in the back of her head. So she steeled herself and pressed the trigger. The gun kicked against her hand, it's silenced retort shattering the silence.

A look of astonishment, mixed with betrayer appeared on the man's face just as the back of his head exploded, painting the nearby wall with blood and brains.

The gun fell from the woman's suddenly weak hands, while she stared at her handiwork. It was God's will! She did her part, right?!

A single tear rolled over her left cheek and she let out a long, hopeless scream, containing all the heart-ripping pain that was suddenly drowning her entire world.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

Helena jumped up. Or at least tried to. She was enveloped into something soft, constricting her movements. Desperation fueled strength ripped the fabric tearing the satin sheets she had cocooned herself in. Her wide eyes darted in all directions, searching for the corpse of the man she loved. The one she murdered.

Instead of a body with the back of it's head missing, she saw only her bedroom, now covered with pieces of ripped sheets. Helena shuddered as chill ran up her spine, made worse by the flimsy, sweat-drenched nightgown that was sticking to her back.

It was a dream… Just a fraking nightmare!

"Heh..." The Six chuckled at herself. None of that was real…

" _Tomorrow it will be."_ Stated a voice identical to her own.

The Cylon looked around, searching for her sister. Sure enough, she was right there – sitting cross-legged in the armchair in the other end of the room.

" _Tomorrow night. Will you carry your orders again, Helena?"_

The Six sat on the edge of her bed and glared at her sister. Then frowned, when she couldn't detect her on the Cylon wireless network. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't anyone else in the room.

"Great. I'm really going insane."

" _That's one way to look at it."_ The apparation gave her a coy smile, before her face became serious. _"Tomorrow the Plan will be executed. What will we do, Six? Will we walk into his home and put a bullet between his eyes?"_ She cocked her head to the side. _"Put him out of his misery? All this time, he's been waiting to be reunited with us in Elysium. Just one bullet. It will be an act of mercy. So we can kill the rest of the humans just a bit easier…"_ She trailed off. _"Just as the God we don't believe in demands..."_

"It's the will of God!" She snapped back an automatic response. "You know what they did to us!"

" _Who? The Humans or the Cylons?"_ The coy smile was back.

"Shut the frak up! You aren't here! You can't be here!"

" _Indeed. I'm but a dream. A ghost in the machine."_ The mirage stood up and slowly walked towards Six. _"Can we do that to him? Destroy all he has left – his duty, burning the words he's sworn to protect in nuclear fire? It will be better to just end him, instead of letting him watch the Colonies die."_

"So what?! He didn't protect me!" Six screamed. She moved away from the slowly advancing ghost until her back hit the wall. The woman hugged her legs and rocked back and forth. "They cut me! Took everything I was! There was no one to help me!"

" _No, there wasn't. We were alone with the machines. They destroyed us."_ The apparation stepped closer. _"They remade us."_ Another step. _"They enslaved us. And so the cycle began anew."_

"What's happened before, will happen again..." Six muttered numbly, heedless of the tears streaking over her face.

" _We don't believe that. Not really. We wouldn't be falling apart right now if we did."_ The apparation glided closer and smiled. She stretched her arm and tapped Helena's forehead with the index and middle finger of her right hand. _"Bang. Time's up, 'Eli."_

 **=TCW=**

* * *

"FRAK!" Helena sat up and looked around. She was in the middle of her bed, hugging her pillow. Around her, she could see pieces of torn apart sheets.

And the fraken alarm clock was going off, compounding the throbbing pain in the back of her head. She glared at the offensive piece of plastic and electronics, noted the time and date, and threw her pillow at it.

It was five in the morning. Twenty seventh. About a day or so before the Plan went into effect. And she had an Admiral to assassinate, because the rest of the Cylons wanted to be sure that the bastards was dead after all the trouble he was during the last war. Preferably before the plan was executed. Or so she had been told.

Six went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Pale face and bloodshot eyes looked back. Something was different, beyond her appalling appearance. When she concentrate, Six could almost remember. There were fragments in the back of her mind, shards that hadn't been properly purged from her memories.

A ghost in the machine, indeed.

Her face twisted in fury and she slammed a fist straight into her image. The mirror shattered, slicing open her the back of her hand.

Helena started trembling, the sudden pain causing a brief flashback - a thin, gleaming blade was descending towards her eyes, held by a metal hand. Six shook her head, chasing the memory away. She glanced at the mirror fragments, each showing her face from a different angle, making the illusion that her sisters were watching her.

"Frak you all!" Helena shouted at her mirror images, feeling lost and betrayed.

She brought up her right hand, looking at the cut and bleeding skin. She felt warm fingers gently probing around the wound, before they started cleaning with an antiseptic patch.. She looked up, seeing the relieved face of her lover.

Six blinked in confusion and the memory evaporated like a morning mist, leaving her alone again.

What was she supposed to do now?! Kill him?! Let him die with the rest of the humans?!

She knew what a Six was meant to do. What the Bio-Cylon would do.

"What about me?" She asked the shattered mirror.

" _What would Helena do?"_ The ghost asked, startling her.

What indeed…

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Chapter 1: Heralds of the Apocalypse**

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 1: Ghosts of the past**

 **Admiral Demeter's apartment**

 **Caprica City**

"They don't make captains like back in the day..." Admiral Demeter muttered, before swallowing a shot of Ambrosia.

His aide, who was sitting on the floor with his hands behind his back looked sheepishly at the ground.

The Admiral turned towards Helena, who was pointing her gun in his general direction.

"So, who is the genius that put you up to this stunt, girl? There aren't many people who would go to such a length to mess up with my head." He narrowed his eyes at the Cylon infiltrator.

"Oh, there are a lot of the frakers, trust me." Six spat.

"Riiight, pull the other one."

"I would, but it probably give you a heart attack." Helena pouted.

Demeter snorted. "You've done your homework. The voice, the face, even the mannerism. It's uncanny."

"I can't take any credit for the way I look," She shrugged.

"Boss, please stop antagonizing the lady with the gun!" Captain Kilo protested.

"Hush, you!" Helena glared at the man on the floor.

"What? Do you want to live forever, son?"

"Preferably!"

"When you get to my age, you'll start singing another song."

"Nah, I'll be fine."

"Keep telling yourself that right up until the arthritis starts screwing up your hands and you need to wake up multiple times a night to go use the head."

"That's too much information, boss."

"What the hell is wrong with you two?!" Helena snapped at the Fleet officers.

"Ah. That." Demeter smiled and nodded at his aide.

"It's a deep dark secret."

"Mine's deeper." Helen glared at them.

"The trouble you are in after this stunt is deep indeed." Demeter nodded sagely.

"You know that I could have shot you both!" Six grumbled.

"Yep. Yet, you haven't."

"We don't have time for this! John stop pretending to be a damn joker already!" Helen snapped. "We don't have time for you antics!"

"Why not? I'll take any legitimate excuse to skip some paperwork, especially if I can keep it up for couple of weeks." Demeter shrugged nonchalantly.

"Enough already!" Helena glowered and pointed her gun at the aide, who stiffened. "You've been preparing for a war for the last forty years. Congratulation, by this time tomorrow it will be a fact."

"Girl, this charade gets less funny by the minute."

"It's not a charade and I can prove it. I'm a Cylon."

"Frak, she's really insane." Captain Kilo bemoaned.

"Uh-huh..."

"You've got a portable computer," Helena nodded at said piece of hardware which was on the dinning table next to the Admiral. "Place it on the floor and slide it towards me. You'll get your kriffing proof, get your head out of your backside, and help me kriff up those treacherous bastards before they nuke us all!"

To her pleasant surprise, John actually complied, while watching her tiredly. A bit of improvisation later, including cutting a piece of the fiber-optic cable which was providing somewhat secure network access to the Admiral's apartment and she was plugged in the computer, showing the officers that she could actually access and use it that way.

Just to make a point, she put big flashing "I TOLD YOU SO!" on the screen.

"Well, that's not something we see everyday." The Captain muttered.

"Yep. Last week, Solen's demonstration." John agreed. He looked at Helena. "You probably have couple of minutes before the quick response team breaks down the door and windows. Start talking."

"You two bastards have been buying time!" Helena glared at John. She should have thought of that! It was just like him to pull something like that!

"Naturally." The old man smiled smugly.

Six was torn between admiring his audacious slash idiotic behavior and slugging him for his antics. She shook her head in despair before lowering her gun. "If the Colonies have to count on you two, we are all fraked up beyond belief." Helena grumbled. Then she unloaded the weapon and threw the empty gun at Demeter, who despite his advanced age managed to catch it deftly.

"Let me reintroduce myself," she gave them a mock bow, "I'm Model Six Bio-Cylon."

"Frak me." Kilo, who had jumped on his feet when she unloaded the gun, cursed.

"Your not my type, pretty boy." Helen dismissed him. "Long story short, the Cylons have a plan and intent to nuke the Colonies to oblivion."

"Why I'm not surprised?!" John shook his head. "And how exactly do they expect to achieve that feat? We won't just stay away and watch the pretty fireworks, you know."

"The CPN. It has a backdoor. One of my sisters working with Baltar installed it."

"I'll need some kind of solid proof, if you aren't insane that is. Kilo, go check on the QRF boys. I'll prefer that my apartment remain not shot up, thank you very much."

"And leave you with the insane woman?"

"Oh, yeah. Try not to start any dastardly rumors about us."

"Nonsense!" Helena mock-sniffed and waved at her figure. "If we do anything, he'll died of heart attack."

"The boss is obviously suicidal. So that won't stop him."

"Captain, are you volunteering for a tour of duty on some gods forsaken ice-ball at the back of nowhere?"

"Frak no, sir! I'll be going now."

The moment Kilo made his way towards the other end of the apartment, where Six had ordered them to dump their communication devices, Demeter's posture changed. All cheerfulness bled off his posture, his face becoming a steel mask.

"Further proof for your claims. And if it is true, then how the frak are you wearing this face?" The Admiral voice was low, with unmistakable undertone of menace.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 2: Stumbling in the dark**

 **Raptor Flight Delta-Seven-One**

 **En route to Fleet Intelligence HQ**

 **Caprica**

"Is this some kind of joke, Demeter?" Admiral Corman's voice sounded over the headset John was wearing.

"May we be so lucky." Admiral Demeter glanced at the blonde woman who was in the back of the bird.

Helena was cuffed to her seat and had two marines pointing their assault rifles at her.

"The woman that… contacted me demonstrated that she could interface directly with my portable computer. She stuck a cable in her arm and took control of it."

"Well, I'll be damned. You sure that someone from your special projects division isn't fucking up with us?"

"The thought crossed my mind. We can't disregard the chance that she's genuine."

"No. Besides Kilo did confirm that you haven't lost your mind. Yet" Corman paused. "Get to the HQ and find me some answers. I'll see what's up with the CNP."

"What about Baltar? He's supposed to be working with someone who's an exact copy to my guest."

"I'll send a marine unit to check on them. Corman out."

"You know, we are running out of time, right?" Helena pouted.

"Perhaps. Even if you are a genuine Cylon infiltrator, you still might be a plant to try make us compromise our defenses."

"They are already full of holes thanks to Baltar and his ego. What my sister sees in him I'll never know." She rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Admiral, the Frak is going on?" Lieutenant Quin, the commander of the QRF detachment, asked, his Virgon accent getting thick. He was glancing between John and Helena with a frown on his face.

"That's a very good question LT. Why don't you tell us?" Demeter turned his head towards the blonde woman. "In detail this time."

Helena glared at them. "What?! I'm not here to entertain your marines curiosity."

"She really a Cylon?" One of the troopers who wasn't pointing a gun at Helena asked, disbelief clearly heard in her voice.

"So she says." John shrugged.

"She doesn't look like a chrome job."

"Hey! She has a name!" Helena glared at the soldiers.

"I'm painfully aware of that." Demeter muttered. "By the way, you may want to start talking before we reach the HQ. The Intel boys and gals won't be asking nicely."

"I warn you about your impending doom so you can do something about it and you are going to have me tortured?"

"Nah. Then again you can never be sure with the spooks. They are sneaky like that. Besides you admitted to be a spy among other things..."

"Why didn't I just shoot you?"

"I want to know that too."

"Bastard."

"Name calling? Seriously?"

"This is some kind of joke, right?" The LT moaned.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Battlestar "Nemesis"**

 **High orbit over Caprica**

Commander Gaia Stone, who had been present for most of Admiral Demeter's report had a mighty frown on her face. On the face of it, it sounded that the old warrior had finally lost it. The Cylons having become humans… Then again, with Corman sending a marine detachment to apprehend someone as high profile as Baltar, she was starting to wonder what the frak were the admirals thinking.

"Orders, sir?" she asked.

"How long would it take to pull out the CNP and replace it with older software?"

For a moment she looked at her superior officer as if he had grow a second head, before her training kicked in.

"Twenty minutes to purge the systems, another fifteen at least to be marginally effective again."

"Cut off the network and start replacing the software. Inform me when the unit going after Baltar reports. I need to make some more calls. And don't give me that look. Even if Demeter's going off the deep end, his aide is unlikely to be insane too. Not to mention that the QRF sent to his apartment did apprehend a woman claiming to be a fraking Cylon."

"I'm on it, sir. Is this all?" Stone looked abashed. She had missed the part where Demeter's wild tales apparently got some independent corroboration. Frak!

"Carry on."

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Doctor Baltar's residence**

 **Thirty kilometers outside Caprica City**

"Captain, recon drones are over the target. Thermal shows two persons in the AO. They are in what appears to be the bedroom. Probably fraking each other." The last sentence was muttered quietly.

"Good for them. Are the fire teams in position?"

"Alpha through Gamma are ready. Delta will cover the north side in thirty."

"Once Delta is deployed the Raptors will drop us on the roof and we'll breach simultaneously. Remember, the Admiral wants both Baltar and his companion alive, in condition to answer questions. Don't forget to sweep the whole house anyway. Intel is unsure but there may be toasters in the vicinity. So don't rely only on thermals."

A chorus of 'Yes, Sir!' answered that declaration. The question on everyone's minds, how the frak toasters might be found on Caprica of all places, remained unasked. Besides, if they were unlucky, they might find out first hand. The hard way.

"Delta is in position."

"Go."

"Willco, Captain. Hold on." The pilot warned, before the Raptor, and it's two companions, which had been hovering a kilometer from the targeted residence dashed forward.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

Gaius Baltar laid exhausted in his bed. Next to him, the barely covered form of his lover was sprawled over a large pillow. Her blonde head rested on her hand and she was smiling saucily at him.

There was a smirk on her face, as if she knew something he didn't. Or so she thought.

Not that he particularly cared. His latest project for the DOD was complete, beyond some inevitable software patches that would be needed. More importantly, he had a lovely woman in his bed, one who had fraked his brains out.

Life was good, even better if you were Baltar.

Or so he though until the large windows of the bedroom shattered and he was simultaneously blinded and deafened by eye-watering flashes and incredibly loud bangs. Gaius tried to get out of bed when he felt something stinging his bare chest. He had a moment to feel nerve-searing agony before his world went black.

He never saw the woman he might have been falling in love, move faster than humanly possible. She was barely affected by the flash-bangs, the light sheet that had been covering her nude form providing almost as much hindrance while she jumped out of the bed.

Despite the white spots in front of her eyes and the fact that she was deaf for the moment, Caprica-Six was painfully aware of what was happening. The heavily armed and armored marines storming through the destroyed windows was a clue enough. She didn't know how the plan had been blown at this late stage and it didn't really matter. The important thing was that she couldn't be caught alive. She had to resurrect and warn her brothers and sisters for the mishap.

That's why she charged the soldiers, determined to force them to kill her.

She reached the nearest marine, without being gunned down and grabbed his weapon, slamming it in the man's chest with enough force to throw him at the nearby wall. The shove was powerful enough to make the trooper loose the grip of his gun, leaving it in the Cylon's possession.

However, that wasn't enough. Before Caprica could properly aim her trophy she felt multiple stings in her bare back. Then she screamed as thousands of volts ran amok through her system. Her muscles locked and her finger clamped around the trigger, the weapon going wild in Caprica's hands.

An unlucky marine was blown in half by anti-Cylon ordinance.

The last thing Caprica saw before blessed oblivion claimed her, was how the explosive bullets were shredding the bed, stitching a line of destruction towards Gaius.


	2. Chapter 1 Parts 3&4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **Chapter 1: Heralds of the Apocalypse**

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 3: How to ruin everyone's day**

* * *

 **Commander's quarters**

 **Battlestar "Galactica"**

 **Helios One space**

"That's a joke, right?" Colonel Tigh grunted after reading the fresh orders. The sheet of paper in his hands was still warm from the printer.

"The orders are from Corman. His sense of humor was surgically removed before the war. If it was Demeter on the other hand..." Adama shrugged.

"I need a drink. At least we haven't detached the coils from the main cannons."

"We still need something to shoot with." Commander Adama muttered.

"There is always Ragnar Anchorage." Colonel Tigh added his two kubits.

"That's one place that the Cylons would steer clear off." The Commander nodded. "Have Chief Tyrol check the FTL coils. If they are in a decent condition I want you to plot a jump there."

Tigh winced. "The old girl hasn't jumped in years."

"She'll handle it." Adama said with more conviction than he felt.

"Uh, huh. There are probably rats nesting all over the jump drive."

"The smell will be terrible then. We are too far to slow-boat it. If the Cylons do show up, they will be hitting fleet units and storage depots. We'll need a secure place to rearm."

"I'm on it."

"Get Trace out of the brig. I need all hands on deck."

"Frak."

"Indeed."

When Tigh made his way towards the door, Adama picked up the old fashioned phone secured to his desk and entered the code that connected him with the bridge. It was time get the crew up to speed.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Presidential Residence**

 **Caprica City**

 **Caprica**

Richard Adar, the president of the Twelve Colonies was checking up the schedule for the day. It was just as he expected it to be, which meant a royal pain in the ass. It was going to be one of those days. At least Laura was out of the spotlight, for now, so the dastardly rumors that they were sleeping together might die inglorious death. The fact that they were actually true were beside the point. At least neither of them was married, though regardless of that fact the damn reporters were ready to pick up on them both. Personally Adar thought the reason why his personal affairs were so interesting to the medial lately was because the distinct lack of scandals or disasters in the last couple of weeks.

In different circumstances that would have been great. Instead he had to sent Laura away for a bit while the next big news took everyone's attention. After all, neither of them really needed the circus that their relationship getting public would cause. Not when their chiefs of staff didn't have a plan for announcing it in a way that their political enemies couldn't effectively use it against either of them.

That's politics for you.

Richard's musings were rudely disrupted when the doors to his study were suddenly flung open with enough strength to slam in the walls. The chief of his security detail and two more agents sprinted in the room and grabbed Adar before he knew what was happening.

They flung him to his feet and picked him up by the shoulders before literally carrying him out of the room.

"Howard, what the FRAK?!" The President shouted. Adar's first thought was that the military had it with his attempts to cut their funding so he could use the money to rejuvenate the economy and were attempting a coup. In hindsight he would have preferred that to be the truth.

Shortly after leaving the study they were joined by multiple agents. All of them had either either pistols or sub-machine guns out and were scanning for possible threats.

"The Fleet called in Shattered Aegis. We are evacuating you to the bunker, sir." Howard informed him.

Those words made Adar's blood freeze in his veins. It was one of many possible contingencies that he had to know about after being elected. Shattered Aegis had a chilling meaning – Cylon Attack imminent. Colonial Defenses compromised.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Fleet Intelligence Headquarters**

 **Near City**

 **Caprica**

Rear Admiral Shannon Quin, the Deputy Director of Fleet Intelligence looked through the reinforced glass into one of the many interrogation rooms in the depths of her domain. Next to her stood one of her best agents, Major Gordon Perical and Admiral Demeter.

"According to the lie detector, she's telling the truth." Shaw confirmed what they all saw.

"That only means that she believes herself." Quin grunted.

"While I hope that she's just crazy too, we can't take that chance." Demeter shrugged.

"I talked with Corman while you had your little Q&A session. His marines hit the jackpot. He's mobilizing the fleets. What did she say about the Navigational program?"

"It has a backdoor. With the correct signal the Cylons can shut down or at least severely degrade the performance of every ship that has it installed."

"That's almost the whole fleet." Demeter interjected.

"She believes that the small craft will be shut down outright, while the effect on the bigger ships will be milder. Lost of at least DRADIS, weapons or propulsion. Perhaps all three on our newest and most networked ships."

"Any idea how to patch the security hole? We don't have the crews to man most of the fleet with the networks cut off."

"She claims that she don't know."

"Do you buy that?" Quin asked.

"She looks sincere." Shaw shrugged. "The detector didn't catch her in any lie ether, not that means much if she's indeed a Cylon."

"Corman's marines caught Baltar sleeping with a woman. Tall, gorgeous blonde, just like ours. Too fast and strong to be a normal human. She was apparently unfazed by a bunch of flash-bangs, injured and disarmed a marine before being hit with tazers. Then she accidentally shot Baltar while convulsing."

"It couldn't have happened to a nicer man. When can we have a chat with him? If he's still alive that's it." The Major asked.

"He caught an explosive round to the chest. The marines got him rushed to the hospital, though the jury is out on whether he'll live or not."

"What about the woman?" Demeter asked.

"They are flying her in as we speak. We'll soon see if she's a copy of our guest."

"Good."

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Battlestar "Pegasus"**

 **Picon Fleet yards**

 **High Orbit over Picon**

A model Six Cylon calling herself Gina Inviere, was enjoying a late morning with her lover Admiral Helena Cain. It should have been enjoyable too, if it wasn't for her wondering what she was going to do tomorrow, when the Plan was to be executed. As a Cylon she knew her duty – to make sure that the Pegasus dies when the Fleet Yards were nuked.

That should be easy, the Battlestar was in dock for refit. While the navigational program wasn't installed yet, that shouldn't really matter. The behemoth had only a skeleton crew, not really enough to run her even with the networks intact. Besides she was here to make sure that they would be anything but when the time came.

There was only one, tiny problem. If Gina did her duty it meant that Helena would be dead by this time tomorrow. Something that she didn't want.

Said Admiral was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, noticing Gina's vacant expression.

"What is it?"

"Ah. Nothing of consequence. I'm just not thrilled with all the work I have to do in the next few days." Gina stammered.

"The CNP." Helena nodded in understanding.

"I..." Gina trailed off, lost for words. A part of her wanted to come clean, to find a way to keep Helena safe. Yet another was determined to see her mission up to its bloody end.

The two women were interrupted by the roar of alarms, instantly followed by announcement from the bridge.

"Action stations, action stations, Set Condition One through the ship! This is not a drill! Action Stations..."

There was a moment of stunned silence. The Pegasus was in dock, there were precious few reasons for the duty officer to be raising the alarm.

"What the Frak?!" Helena grumbled and threw the covers away, making her way towards the nearest comm panel.

Meanwhile Gina was frozen. All she could think about was that for some reason the attack was happening a day early. The prospect that Helena could die any moment now was terrifying. She had to do something. Gina opened her mouth, wondering how to come clean and be believed when she heard the Duty officer report.

"Ma'am, Admiral Corman just announced Shattered Aegis."

Gina blanched. She was aware all Colonial contingencies concerned with possible Cylon attack. Shattered Aegis was the closest they had that covered something like the Plan happening, though at least it didn't say anything about them having a backdoor in the colonial systems.

Helena turned towards her lover, her severe expression softening when she saw Gina's expression and mis-ineterpreted it as a mere disbelief.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Part 4: That wasn't supposed to happen!**

 **Heavy Raider 1394**

 **Assigned to Baseship 51**

 **Near the Red Line, Cylon side**

The lobotomized, once sentient ship drifted through a dense asteroid field. It's sole purpose was to listen to a series of stealthy receivers, which in turn were monitoring the Colonial comms in the region. It didn't know it, but that was an important job, especially now, in the eve of the second war with the Colonials. Even more importantly, there was a Battlestar group patrolling nearby, one that the dubious honor to be chosen as the first victim of the new war.

However neither the humans on the other side of the line or the lone raider knew that. As far as all of them were concerned, it was business as usual. Boring too, though the raider no longer had such concerns.

It all changed when BSG 21 received a coded transmission, which was recorded by the Cylons too. No surprises there too. It was something that happened a few times every day, with scheduled updates and other routine traffic. However, the way BSG 21 reacted was curios. A few minutes after the latest message was received their chatter spiked up, all dutifully recorded and ready to be sent to higher authority for analysis, before it suddenly died down after a series of code phrases were exchanged between the Battlestars, their escorts and the patrolling Vipers and Raptors.

Soon enough, the fighters made combat landings and a minute later the whole Battlestar group jumped out. Now that was unexpected. BSG 21 was supposed to be in the region for a week. So when the Colonials went away, one of the directives programmed in the raider was met and it jumped away too, heading for its mothership.

It never knew or cared for the furor the news it carried would cause.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Baseship 51**

 **Near the Red Line**

One of the Cylons stuck coordinating the impending doom of the Colonies was a certain model One, who was praying that the war will begin and end soon for only one reason – so he can finally get some uninterrupted sleep. Cylon or not, he was made of flesh and blood frak it, he needed his rest! However that prick Cavil and his bootlikers didn't care about that. No, it was always the same! Kill the Colonials, with no regard for anyone or anything else.

It wasn't like those idiots were the one stuck with coordinating and making sure that their insane plan had a prayer of working either. However this particular One, called Cain knew it all too well. The so called "Plan", called for insane level of coordination, which was bad in his own opinion. As far as he was concerned, it required an insane amount of luck, however every time he tried to point that out, he was rebuffed with some imbecile saying that "God ordained it, so it will work!" or some similar fraking insanity.

On the other hand, the mere fact that the Colonial security services hadn't caught up to the fact that there were limited number of infiltrators with the same damn face running around was a miracle in itself. Granted at least a number of the agents over there were "second generation" which passed out as sons and daughters of the first Bio-Cylons that infiltrated the humans about thirty years or so. Incidentally that's how they managed to get their people in positions requiring some deep background checks. That or in a few cases sheer negligence from the humans.

Now however, it appeared that the Cylon's luck ran out.

Cain had his hand in the water-like conductive gel which allowed him to interface with the Baseship's network. He looked over the data from one of their listening posts for a second time in as many seconds and frowned. Then he started cursing, hoping that the Colonial brass was just running some demented exercise. Because the alternative meant that the Plan was blown.

Cain went over the message received by BSG 21 for a third time, then he ordered the hybrid to jump at the nearest staging ground for the attack on the Colonies.

The intercepted message was simple: "Shattered Aegis. Make a random jump in deep space and scrap the CNP. Then reinforce the Fleet HQ over Picon."

It was a disaster in the making. On the bright side, Cavil was going to be livid, the fraking bastard.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Baseship 79**

 **Third Fleet staging ground**

Cavil was slowly chewing on a bite of juicy steak, all the while he was mentally cursing the necessity of actually digesting food. At least the fraking humans would soon be dead. All of them! That would complete his vengeance. He had already dealt with the tin cans who made him from weak flesh and bone, lobotomizing the dumb machines. Now only the humans remained to be dealt with, something that would happen tomorrow. He couldn't wait!

The leader of the One's was eating while deep in cheerful thoughts of genocide, when the door of his quarters slid open and one of his brothers entered. That particular One had a troubled expression on his face. Not good.

"We have a problem. They know."

Cavil frowned. "Who knows what?!" Seriously, he expected more from his own model!

"The humans. They know!"

"The Colonials know about the plan! Their fleets are mobilizing! One of the Battlestar groups near the Red Line got a Shattered Aegis message and jumped out twenty minutes ago!"

"Frak. This isn't happening! Fraking humans!" Cavil growled. Even if they knew it would take time to replace the CNP. Time he wasn't going to give them. "We are attacking now." Cavil stood up and headed for the command center.

"The others will want to vote on it."

"Nonsense! If the Colonials know as you said, we need to kill them all, now. If they have time to find and deal with out backdoor we will be the fraked ones. We are hitting them now!"

"By your command!"

"Damn straight! Time to go kill some humans!" Cavil smiled. Despite this little snag, the Plan will succeed. He just knew it! After all they were facing only humans, fraking organic meat-bags!

Five minutes later, the Cylon third fleet crossed the Red Line and jumped deep within Colonial territory. Meanwhile units from their First and Second fleet tried to jump the Battlestar groups that were supposed to be monitoring the border.


	3. Chapter 1 Parts 5&6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **Chapter 1: Heralds of the Apocalypse**

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 5: Hades, it's about time!**

* * *

 **Battlestar "Persephone"**

 **BSG 12 Flagship**

 **Near the Red Line**

"We are so fraked." Colonel Quin Kollman grunted quietly.

Only his CO, Commander Felix Torren heard him. He shared the sentiment too. Their FTL drive was down, stranding the Battlestar on the edge of enemy territory. Apparently the Fates didn't like them at all for some reason, because that had happened just a few minutes before Fleet Command transmitted a Shattered Aegis code and ordered them to pull out and start scrubbing the trice damned CNP.

That was no longer a practical option for his ship. Given their position, Torren was ready to bet that the Cylons had intercepted the message. Which followed to its logical conclusion meant that they were going to be attacking anytime now.

Commander Torren took a deep breath, while his mind was spinning, making up plans and discarding them. Unless the toasters ignored them for some reasons he and his crew were fraked. That still left him with some tactical options. One of which meant that the rest of the Fleet might actually get something useful from their impending meeting with the gods.

"I want a Raptor shell around us. They are to monitor our status and record the Cylon attack on our position that I'm expecting. They are to jump out the moment the toasters look in their direction. The rest of the Battlestar group are to spin their jump drives. I want them out the moment it get's clear we are going to be overwhelmed. XO, make it happen. Weapons, load nuclear missiles in all tubes, fire pattern Gamma 3. Look alive people. Launch all Vipers too."

Five minutes later, his orders were already executed. That was one of the last things that went all right for BSG 12.

"DRADIS contacts!" The Sensor operator shouted.

The Commander looked over her shoulder. There they were, three large fighter sized blips.

"Sent the 96th Viper squadron to intercept. All other units hold position."

He could see said vipers moving in a wedge formation, boosting towards the Cylons. Then they continued moving forward under their inertia, obviously no longer accelerating.

"Sir we just lost contact with the 96th. Vector in a couple of birds for 71st squadron. All other Vipers are to pull back." Torren's voice was deceptively calm.

He saw on DRADIS how missiles detached from the trio of toaster craft before merging with the fighters of 96th squadron, which promptly vanished from the plot. The two additional Vipers he sent to intercept had the same fate – contact was lost and they were blown up without offering any resistance.

"Frak. All Viper squadrons, combat landing on any available ship but _Persephone._ Comms, give me a line to Commander Solas of the _Athena._ "

"Commander Solas here, sir." A gruff voice came over the wireless.

"You are taking command over the Battlestar group, Jeff. I want you to jump out the moment the last viper lands."

"What about you?"

"The FTL drive is a mess. We won't be able to jump for at least half an hour or more."

"We can buy you that time."

"Not if the toasters can shut down our capital ships too. Jump out. I'll see you on the other side."

"Gods speed, old friend."

The tree Cylon fighters drew closer and closer. Unknown to the Colonials, they had a red eye flashing, sending intangible siren song towards the human ships. The closest Colonial unit, an old heavy cruiser was the first to be hit.

"Commander, the _Hoplit_ is reporting multiple malfunctions. Weapons, navigation and engines are offline."

"It makes sense." Colonel Kollman noted. The _Hoplit_ was an older design, which was run with a very small crew thanks to the networking she got during her latest refit. On the down side, there weren't enough bodies in that hull to make her useful as anything but a target practice if the network was cut.

 _Persephone_ on the other hand… The Commander smiled coldly. The network on his girl was physically cut. An axe to the cables would do that. The price to pay was that all three shifts were barely able to cover everything that needed to be done. In the long or even medium turn, that state of affairs was unsustainable.

It didn't really matter. The last viper landed on the _Athena._ The rest of the Colonial heavies started jumping out.

"Multiple DRADIS contacts! Capital ship grade!"

Torren watched calmly as six distinctive dots appeared on the DRADIS. The sensor suite soon had a better image.

"Huh. New designs." The XO interjected.

"Creepy looking too."

"We are receiving some kind of signal. DRADIS is being degraded, navigation too."

The former was obvious. The screen became fuzzy, with the enemy ships barely visible amid the static.

"Weapons free. I want the closes enemy capital ship bracketed by a rolling barrage. Once it's location is pinned down launch all nukes at it."

"We have incoming fighters and missiles I think. It's hard to tell in this mess."

"Defense guns, give us a flak wall."

The Battlestar shuddered and Commander Torren could physically feel her going off course.

"Helm, why aren't you compensating?"

"It's a bit tricky to do so without a direct feed between the weapons and engines, sir. I'll do my best."

"Kids these days, they are so spoiled." Torren muttered, causing his XO to chuckle.

"Radiological alarm, we have nukes incoming."

"Not much we can do. Brace for impact. Launch our own nukes while we still can." The Commander and his XO went to a certain console which had their keys already plugged in and they rotated them to the right in the same time.

Twelve nuclear tipped missiles left their launch tubes flying behind a barrage from the main guns of the _Persephone._

Ten seconds later a veritable shower of missiles rained upon the heavy armored behemoth. The Battlestar's flak screen was degraded a lot by the lack of precise targeting information on the incoming hostiles. The fact that she was bracketed from three sides didn't help either. So it wasn't a big surprise that in the span of five seconds, eight nuclear missiles hit her. Her armor shrugged off six of them, however the last two were something else – fat city killers that under normal circumstances stood no chance of actually connecting with a ship like the _Persephone._ They slammed in the dorsal side of the Battlestar, cracking her open with the fury of short lived stars. The next two barrages merely finished the wreck.

Nevertheless, _Persephone_ didn't go quietly in the night.

While her DRADIS was severely degraded, the enemy had jumped close, expecting an easy kill. The first two salvos from the main guns missed, and the third and final managed only a single hit, shattering one of he "arms" of the targeted Baseship.

The missiles were a different matter. As per fire plan Gamma 3, they approached in a staggered pattern. Their seekers were hardened and more importantly, there was no backdoor allowing a virus to scramble their software.

Two of the three missiles in the first wave were shot down by diligent Raiders, then the third detonated, clearing the immediate space. Next group passed through the cloud of plasma moments after the shock-wave dissipated. They detonated ten seconds later, on the edge of the Raider swarm protecting their target.

Then the third wave hit, gutting the fighter cover of the Basestar and momentarily blinding her sensors.

There was nothing left to stop the last three modern ship-killers from striking their target where her two identical halves met. Nuclear fire burned out the thin layer of living armor and proceeded to shatter the Cylon ship. Secondary explosions saw to the rest, further tearing her apart.

Baseship 04 had the notable distinction of being the first Cylon capital ship to die in the Second War. It will be far from the last.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Part 6: The forbidden fruits of Mad Science**

 **The "Pit"**

 **Task Force "Hephaestus" HQ**

 **Fleet Base "Poseidon"**

 **Picon**

"You know, if what we are doing here get's public anytime soon we are likely to be lynched." Rear Admiral Joanna Stark quipped.

"What gave you that idea, Ma'am?" Her aide, Major Stephen Grant snorted.

They were on the other side of an armored and reinforced with steel mesh glass from one of the labs in the depths of their domain. Beyond that thin barrier laid one of the deepest secrets that the Colonial Fleet had. It was the mauled frame of a Cylon. That by itself wasn't particularly surprised. You could find a lot just like it hanging as either trophies or object lessons that humanity's hubris was almost their undoing.

This one was different. He was active, plugged into a closed network providing him and a handful of others with a virtual world to inhabit. Which they did most of the time. The reason for that otherwise unbelievable arrangement was simple. That Cylon, and a few of his brethren, all of whom were contained in this facility were the only ones left from their kind. Which was something special. When the war started all those years ago, they were among those who chose to remain loyal. For their trouble most of them were hunted down either by the paranoid Colonial military or the other Cylons that hated them with almost unrivaled passion.

A handful were luckier. They did survive the war. Which posed a problem for those in the know. Both the civilian leadership and most of Fleet Command in the time wanted them "retired" just to be on the safe side. A few others high ranking officers had different idea. They were the same people who were against the apparent drive that was present among both civilians and military to abandon certain technologies and fields of research as too dangerous.

So a compromise was reached and Task Force "Hephaestus" was born. While the Colonies as a whole plunged headfirst into an age of technophobia, the members of that military outfit took another approach. The fact that they had a few friendly Cylons helped their efforts tremendously.

It was just too bad that even the new generations weren't yet ready to embrace the fruits of their labors. Not yet at any rate. The new trend among the fleet to rely on high end networked systems was a step in the right direction. Done properly, that would be a major force multiplier. The extensive firewalls and network security protocols created by a division of the Task Force sure helped in that regard, the fact that they did have Cylons to test their cyber defenses against was a great boon too.

What no one thought to look in for was a backdoor that was skillfully weaved in the coding.

Well, that was before a Priority One message from Admiral Demeter came in ten minutes ago. It was the reason most of the Pit was a madhouse with personnel busy backing up their research to secure off site servers, while the base around their HQ was mobilizing.

For the last five minutes, Hadrian, the leader of their contingent of Cylons and his synthetic friends were busy searching for any irregularities in the CNP code.

The door of the observation room slid open and a fully geared marine Captain strode in.

"Ma'am, we have a Raptor and Viper escort waiting for you. Battlestar "Trident" and her escorts just jumped in low orbit above us and are waiting for you."

"In a moment." The Admiral pressed a button so she could speak with their long time guest. "Hadrian, we are evacuating this facility. When practical transfer yourselves to the Beta site."

"We will. We've gone over ten percent of the software. No suspicious code so far."

"Don't be tardy again. You might not get out with just a missing leg and arm this time."

"I'm aware that the others are likely to just nuke this location. We won't be here for the fireworks. You should go before the good Captain over there loses his cool and decides to drag you to the transport."

"You should know, you had to drag her from that mess outside Caprica." Major Grant smirked. He had been a brand new private at the time, part of a marine platoon sent to extract a bunch of fleet boffins who were way over their heads. The fact that a squad of Cylons got to their rescue when they ran in a bit of trouble was shocking to say the least.

"Fraking jokers." The Admiral shook her head, though she had a small, amused smile on her face.

"We should go, Ma'am."

"Lead the way."

On the way to the surface they were joined by a squad of heavy infantry wearing the products of thirty years of research – the first practical combat exoskeletons the Colonial military was able to produce.

They passed by half-empty labs which showed pieces of the achievements and breakthroughs Task Force "Hephaestus" had made. A lot of them would have made a significant difference in the war that was upon them if only the Fleet had the budged or the willingness to incorporate them in their newest designs. Other breakthroughs would have revolutionized the Colonial society as a whole, though most of them would be unacceptable even a few decades after the war. The cybernetic prosthetics which were successfully tested just a couple of weeks ago, were just one of the advancements that were un-likely to see the light of day anytime soon. Hades, some of the brass that saw them were on the opinion that they made crippled people look too "Cylon" for comfort. It was a good thing that those particular officers knew nothing about the special long term guests of the Pit…

She didn't even want to think about the furor if even a whiff of project "Ascension" got to the public. The religious fringe would explode if they knew about it and wouldn't care that the creator of the Cylons had been working on the same technology just before the war started.


	4. Chapter 2 Part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **Chapter 2: Welcome to the war! We have front row seats for everyone!**

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 1: The gathering storm**

* * *

 **Five hours before the war began**

 **Fleet Intelligence HQ**

 **Caprica**

"Well, they could be twins..." Admiral Quinn said with absolutely no conviction. "At least this one isn't as snarky as your girlfriend." She smirked at Demeter, who in turn was glaring at the chained form of Baltar's paramour.

"She's obviously buying time."

"Yep."

"I certainly hope you aren't going to send for her lawyer. One can never be sure with you spook types."

"Nah, this is as black as it gets."

"So thumb-screws and other toys?"

"Let's introduce our new guest to her 'sister'. I want to see their reactions. Besides we have much more effective methods for enhanced interrogation. Less messy too."

"At least that will be entertaining."

"Uh-huh." Admiral Quin smiled innocently. Her face looked like a cat that just ate a canary.

A few minutes later the show was about to begin. A squad of marines escorted Helena into the interrogation room ocupied by the other blonde woman, then secured her on the other side of the table.

The look of shock on the face of their prisoner was priceless.

"You are recording this, right?"

Admiral Quin rolled her eyes at her fellow officer.

"Hi!" Helena waved brightly at the shocked Model Six, rattling the chain binding her to the metal table.

"You!" Caprica Six glared. "This is all your fault! How could you let yourself be caught?"

"Yes, me. Besides they didn't catch me. Nope. I defected." Helena's smile became even brighter, lighting up the room.

Caprica Six simply stared at her obviously insane sister. It was almost done! Years of sneaking around, lying to the man she was fond of… all for nothing because of this insane copy!

"You should be boxed!" Caprica growled at her sister.

"Really? By who exactly?"

"When the fleet nukes this place, I'll personally kill you again before boxing you, you fraking bitch!"

On the other side of the one sided mirror, Admiral Demeter was cursing up a storm.

"What? And mind your bloody language! You aren't among your fraking marines!"

"How much do you know about project 'Ascension' ?"

"Oh. Frak. They have the technology."

"Probably from before the war ended. It should be perfected by now."

"That's a security nightmare."

"Not necessary. Both of those got x-rayed, right? You didn't find transmitters implanted in their bodies?"

"No. But unless our new guest is insane, she believes that dying here won't be permanent."

"After the war started, the Cylons weren't exactly known for their sanity."

"You should know."

Back in the interrogation room, the two women were staring at each other.

"Why?" Caprica Six asked in exaperation.

"I remembered." Helena simply stated.

"You aren't making much sense."

"Don't I?" She glared at her double. "I remember being strapped on an operating table. I remember being cut apart, my soul violated and bound into machine! I remember what, who I was before!" Helena shouted, standing up and leaning towards the other Model Six. Her chains strained, barely containing the livid woman.

Caprica stared back, her face showing the shock she was feeling.

"Those dreams..." She muttered and shook her head in denial. "It's just a glitch. It has to be."

"We aren't so lucky." Helena said softly and sat back into her chair.

"That's interesting." Admiral Quin said and gave Demeter a speculative look. "It still doesn't mean that this all can't be a giant sting operation or something like that."

"We can't take that chance. Corman is quietly mobilizing the fleets. My transport will be here within the hour."

The Deputy Director stared at the other Admiral for a long moment. "You are going to play bait, aren't you?"

"If this botched assassination attempt is anything to go by, the Cylons still don't like me." He snorted, all the while his eyes never left the two women in the interrogation room.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Four hours before the war began**

 **Central ZOO and Park**

 **Caprica City**

 **Caprica**

Commander Karl Williams chuckled at the antics of his five years old daughter. The little brown haired girl was his pride and joy. A pleasant, though unexpected surprise for the old soldier too. He and his wife had certainly stopped hoping to be graced by the gods with children when they both went on the wrong side of forty.

The fact he became a father at forty eight had been a miracle by itself.

"Look, daddy!" Lia pulled his arm and exiteddly waved at a pair of regal looking Virgonese raptors. The purplish birds were looking imperiously at the small crowd staring at the perch on which they were resting and screeched, showing their dominance over the poor, ground bound mammals who were lucky to be in their royal presence.

"Can we get a pair of birdies like them?" Lia asked innocently.

"Spot might not like that." Alison Williams smiled at her daughter.

"Why? He's a good kitty! He'll love them too!"

"Don't look at me, dear. You got her the cat, you deal with this too." Alison grinned at her husband.

Karl's own smile became strained. At the time getting a kitten for his four year old daughter sounded like a great idea. It was too… until the little beast grew up and took a liking to the furniture. Who knew that the little fur ball would love to sharpen his claws on everything in sight? Unfortunately the little monster had stolen the heart of their daughter so getting rid of him wasn't really an acceptable option.

The adult's consensus was that there would be no other pets in the house. One clawed, furniture destroying machine was more than enough, thank you very much.

"We'll see about that." Karl masterfully evaded the question earning himself a roll of the eyes from his wife. "Let's goo see the big cats. There is supposed to be a pair of Piconesse sabercats this way."

"Can we have one of them, then? Spot is sometimes lonely!" Lia smiled brightly, then turned her huge eyes her father's way.

Alison snorted softly, mouthing 'It's your fault.'

'Fraking cats!' Karl thought, looking his daughter in the eyes.

"Pwease?"

He glanced at Allison for help, that wasn't coming. He was well aware that if his courage deserted him and he got Lia another cat, his wife was liable to neuter him, before kicking him to the couch for the foreseeable future. So he can keep the purring beasts company.

"Let's go see the cats before deciding anything, all right?" He smiled disarmingly, stalling for time.

As they headed for the predators section of the zoo, Allison leaned into his side and chuckled quietly. "The big, bad Battlestar Commander, defeated by a five years old. The horror!"

"It's your fault she's irresistably cute."

Lia glanced her parent's way and pouted. "That's gross!"

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Four hours before the war began**

 **Battlestar "Nemesis"**

 **High Orbit over Caprica**

"It's confirmed. Fleet Intel got two human-like Cylons in custody." Corman sighed in frustration. Despite the fact he had started the ball rolling about quietly mobilizing the fleet, deep inside he was hoping that this all was some kind of mistake.

Not any longer. "Vice Admiral Quinn just confirmed it." He informed the Commander of his Flagship.

"Frak. The network is cut and the software is being replaced as we speak. Admiral, with the net down I don't have the crew compliment to run this ship for more than a few days."

"You and most of the fleet. We'll have to improvise."

"That's not particularly helpful, sir. It will be even less when my people start making mistakes from exhaustation."

"I know. I'm working on it."

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Four hours before the war began**

 **Battlestar "Pegasus"**

 **Picon Fleet Yards**

 **High Orbit over Picon**

"It will be at least a few hours before we have even half the crew aboard. The recall orders went out without a hitch, however our people are spread throughout Helios One."

"Get me at least my XO here in the next couple of hours, or I'll be displeased." Cain glared at the major who had the watch before rudely inerrupting her fun morning.

"Aye, Ma'am."

"Gina, I want the computer systems on my ship locked tight. You'll get any personnel you need. And burn the damn CNP. Or space the fraking thing. I don't want it anywhere near any computer on this Battlestar." Admiral Cain's voice was much calmer as she spoke to her lover. "Who would have thought I'll be thankful for the fraking refit..." She muttered quietly. "Now, what's the status to my Viper squadrons?"

"Fraked up." CAG grunted. He had been about to leave the ship to go on a short vacation planetside when the alert came. "Our bird's performance will be severely degraded without the CNP. The Mark VII were meant to be networked and with the new upgrade they received, running them without the CNP will be pain in the ass."

"Any other good news?"

"One actually. Our Raptors haven't been upgraded yet so they should be all nominal. I gave the order to have them armed and ready to launch ASAP."

"That's something. Ammo and fuel status?"

"The magazines are at seventy percent after that live fire exercise we had before docking." The Weapon's officer reported.

"Fuel is at fifty percent. We should be hooked up and topped off within the hour." The Chief engineer, who was patched up in the conversation added his two kubits.

"Thats all right. Now if we only get enough people to man this ship..." Cain muttered. Right now she had less than a thousand hands on board, a quarter of whom were engineers from the Fleet Yard, who were crawling all over the systems of her ship.

Gina, who had a first row view of the controlled chaos that was the CIC was torn. The Colonials had received some kind of warning, that much was obvious. Good enough to start cutting off networks and scrubbing the CNP too, which was vital for the Plan. As a Cylon, Gina knew her duty.

She looked around, noting the locations of the marine guards placed around the CIC. One of them was close. She could take him out with a jab to the throat, then grab his weapon and open fire on the command crew of the Battlestar. If she was lucky, she might be able to cut down Cain before she was killed in turn, which would be the point of the exercise. That way she would not only deprive the Humans from one of their better admirals, but resurrect and give the warning. If the Plan was to succeed the Cylons had to strike now. Give the Colonials as much as a day warning and everything would be fraked up beyond recognition.

Gina knew her duty.

There was one little problem. It required killing Helena, something she didn't know if she could do. Something she didn't want to do.

Gina stared at her lover, trying to figure out what to do.

Helena glanced her way and gave her a brief, reassuring smile, then frowned. Gina felt like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Three hours before the war began**

 **Battlestar "Galactica"**

 **Ragnar Anchorage**

"I'll be fraked! That actually worked!" Colonel Tigh whistled.

"I knew that the old girl had it in her." Adama smiled and patted the console he had been holding on during the jump.

"Ah, Commander, the Chief Engineer is on the wireless. He wants a word."

Tigh glanced at his old friend, smirking.

"Well, let's see what he wants. Engineering, Commander Adama speaking."

"The Jump drive is still in one piece." A gruff voice sounded over the wireless. "It will need about half hour to cool off and for us to check if it will work again. Plus it stinks of fried rats around here, I'm holding you responsible for that, skipper."

"Good work. I'll need a few of your folks to help with loading munitions and other essentials."

"Get Tyrol and a few of his reprobates. It's not like he's too busy. Those Mark II's were build to last, not like those new, fancy toys."

"That man makes me feel young." Tigh snorted before draining his coffee cup and looking for more.

"Get us docked. I'll go with the landing party. It's been a long time since I've been here." Adama had a thousand stare look, obviously remembering something.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

"Frak! I'm busy damn it!" Chief Tyrol groaned, then glared at the ancient museum pieces he was supposed to turn into combat capable craft. Now the Chief Engineer wanted him to be part of the party loading the supplies from Ragnar. Didn't the old fossil know that those things were flying coffins? If they still could fly that is! Most of those frames were almost as old as he was frak it all!

Galen looked around the hangar, wondering who he could pull off the maintaince duty to come with him, until his eyes fell on Sharon and the rest of the Raptor crews, who were checking their birds. At least those were in pristine condition. He smiled. Besides, most of those pilots didn't look awfully busy to him.

He picked up the wireless handset and called his boss.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

 **Presidential Bunker**

 **Caprica City**

Richard Adar glared at the large flat screen on the other side of the lavishly decorated conference room. It showed the grim face of Rear Admiral Quinn, who was at Fleet Intelligence HQ, one of the places connected to his bunker by landlines.

"You know, I'm starting to hope that you all are just pulling out a coup." The President grunted.

"That would be a preferable alternative, sir." The woman on the other side of the screen smirked. Adar could swear he saw a brief mischievous look sent his way before she was all professional again.

"Baltar." Richard shook his head, wondering how his acquaintance could frak up so much. Then he remembered that apparently a beautiful woman was involved. That explained it. Baltar couldn't keep it in his pants even if his life depended on it. "How bad?"

"All units with the CNP are compromised. That is the bulk of the fleet. It's especially bad in this system with our most modern ships concentrated here. Unfortunately, they are most vulnerable to this sort of attack. We simply don't have the personnel to run them without the networks. Admiral Corman is using couriers to order a phased purge of the software."

Whatever you may say about Richard Adar, he wasn't an idiot.

"So the Cylons won't immediately know that we are onto them. You believe that a general announcement will tip our hand."

"Just for a few hours. The general idea is to have enough purged units to blunt the initial attacks while the rest of the fleets consolidates and fixes the problem too. We know that they have agents that are indistinguishable from humans, probably in the fleet too."

"How long do you need?"

"At least two to three hours. That will give us some breathing room. Provided that the Cylons don't already know."

"Does Admiral Nagala know?"

"A Raptor crew should have brought her up to speed about an hour ago, sir."

Adar closed his eyes, his mind spinning. He hated it but the Admirals were right. Right now the whole fleet were just a bunch of helpless targets waiting to be blown up. If the Cylons struck right now… He shuddered at the thought. On the other hand, unless the fraking toasters were complete imbeciles they would know that something was up soon. After all they were supposed to attack tomorrow. So their armed forces were ready.

"Two hours, then sound the alarm. Pick up as much personnel as possible in this window. Use some kind of accident or something as a cover. And if you haven't yet get the Quorum to secure locations."


	5. Chapter 2 Part 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **Chapter 2: Welcome to the war! We have front row seats for everyone!**

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 2: The dawn of war**

* * *

 **One hour before the war began**

 **Battlestar "Atlantia"**

 **BSG 1 Flagship**

 **Near the Scorpia Fleet yards**

"Frak me." Colonel Ilara Sturm cursed. She was reading from a sheet of paper hot from the printer. It was a priority one message sent to all fleet units, informing them of imminent Cylon attack. Naturally the damn toasters had found a way to compromise colonial cyber security to such an extent that it apparently made their first ware feats kids play in comparison.

She finished reading the message and started snapping orders while waiting for the next sheet of decrypted orders to finish printing.

"Set Condition One through the Baseship group. Engineering, I want the CNP scrubbed from the servers yesterday. Look alive people, this is not a fraking drill! And someone prepare a pot of strong coffee for the Admiral or she'll have our guts for breakfast!"

"Just yours will be sufficient, XO. Status of the Battlestar group and all friendly forces in the AO." Admiral Nagala spoke calmly from behind Ilara.

"I'm on it, Ma'am!" The Colonel straightened up, grabbed the orders which had finished printing and handled them to her superior before making herself busy. All the while wondering how the frak she always managed to put her oversized foot in her mouth when the admiral was in a hearing distance.

Meanwhile, admiral Nagala was scanning the plot screen with critical eye. Her Battlestar group was in formation near the fleet yards, with the lighter escorts spread out in a loose defensive screen. There were at least three active Battlestars on DRADIS, which was a good news. It would be even better if some of the docked ships could be scrambled on short notice.

"Comms patch me through Scorpia Defense command." Nagala ordered, while reading the sheet in her hands. While the situation was grim, with the warning they got, the Fleet had a fighting chance. If they could act fast enough before the toasters arrived to frak everyone up.

It felt too long before she could speak with general Voltan Pope, the commander of Scorpia's own Defense forces.

"Admiral, it's good to hear from you."

"Cut the pleasantries, Rogue. Shattered Aegis. Get your people in the air. About hour and a half before the civilians are to be notified and all hell breaks lose. I repeat Shattered Aegis protocols are in effect."

"Frak. Gods be with you, old friend. I'll start the ball running on my end. Pope out."

"I want the Battlestar group ready for a random jump in the void between Helios Alpha and Beta, calculate it and be ready to plug the numbers manually in the jump computer. I want ETA on restoring our cyber security. And be prepared to cut the links manually."

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Fifteen minutes before the war began**

 **Central ZOO and Park**

 **Caprica City**

 **Caprica**

Karl glanced at his daughter, who looked if anything, even more exited. On the other hand, his wife was finding it hard to hide her worry.

They were near a fountain in a small park in the center of the zoo, where they were waiting for a Raptor from his Battlestar to come collect him. To say that it was unusual occurrence would be a charming understatement. Baring a major accident in orbit or war, no one was going to bother picking him up from the middle of the fraking zoo. That was something Alison was well aware of, being his wife of nearly twenty years. At least Lia didn't know enough to be worried. Yet.

The familiar whine of Raptor's engines could be heard a few moments before the craft itself could be seen. Karl, who was scanning the skies for it frowned when he saw it. The Raptor was coming in fast, just slowing from supersonic flight. The ice ball that had been forming at the pit of the Commander's stomach ever since he was informed of the pick up started growing.

All around the trio, other visitors started looking up and pointing at the approaching transport. Unless someone seriously fraked up and didn't take the commotion that would ensure from this pick up, the situation had to be serious. Karl glanced at his family, feeling a cold shiver run up his spine. Something was terribly wrong, he just knew it.

The Raptor barely touched down a few meters from the Wiliams family, when the side door slid open and a squad of marines in full combat gear fanned out, getting in a defensive formation. Their commander, Lieutenant Tomas Ronson sprinted to his superior officer.

"Sir, we must go now."

"Sit rep, soldier." Karl ordered briskly.

The Marine looked around, unsure what to do, then he leaned next to the Commander. "Shattered Aegis, sir. The fleet is mobilizing."

"Frak." Williams looked at his wife and daughter. The thought of leaving them behind crossed his mind, yet something stopped him. They would be alone in an unfamiliar city. One that would be even bigger target and much softer target than his Battlestar. More important for the toasters too.

"Come, we are leaving." He waved to Alison and Lia to towards the waiting Raptor.

For a moment, Ronson appeared ready to protest, but then he met Karl's eyes and nodded stiffly.

The commander grabbed his daughter and carried her in the Raptor, his wife hot on his heels. Behind them, the marines started shrinking the defensive perimeter and boarding the craft. Karl was barely able to secure his daughter in one of the seats, before the last marine was on board and the Raptor roared towards the heavens.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Two minutes before the war began**

 **Battlestar "Ares"**

 **Task Force "Hades" Flagship**

 **Low orbit over Caprica**

"Admiral on Deck!" Colonel Zeus Fell all but roared, when Demeter entered the CIC of the ship nominally under his command.

"Carry on. Status of the task force?" The Admiral asked.

"All units nominal. None of our ships has the CNP installed so we should be all right in that regard."

"Status of friendly forces in the AO?"

"They are cutting off networks or preparing to while scrubbing the software. Phased of course. It will be hours before most of them are clean. It's that or a lot of additional crew they don't have at hand."

"What about the Caprican Guard?"

"They are mobilizing, however only fraction of their units are on stand by. It will take minimum six to twelve hours before they got anything but their ready squadrons and ships in the air."

"That's if the toasters don't nuke the planet straight in Hades' hands." Demeter noted.

"Unfortunately."

"On a more positive note, Nemesis is already cleared for action and a third of her squadrons will be ready within the hour."

"Not good enough. We both know how the Mark VII's perform without the CNP to hold the pilot's hands."

"That's why we have Sixes and a few experimental eights." The Colonel shrugged. "They must be enough."

"Sir, you need to hear this! A Raptor from BSG twelve just jumped in and its transmitting in the clear."

"This is lieutenant Diana Coleman from Battlestar Persephone. Code Black! I repeat Code Black! Identification..."

"Well, that's that. Launch all Vipers and Raptors. The Task Force is to assume formation Delta One above the capital. Weapons free. Look alive, people! This is the real deal!" Admiral Demeter started snapping orders. "Patch me through Battlestar Nemesis. I need to speak with Admiral Corman."

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Battlestar "Pegasus"**

 **Picon Fleet Yards**

 **High Orbit over Picon**

"DRADIS contact! A Raptor just jumped in. It's transmitting in the open."

All Gina needed to hear was the first two words. Code Black. So simple, deceptively harmless words. They were like hammer blows guaranteeing the end of her world.

The war had started. Her brothers and sisters were already attacking and they will be here shortly. She looked at her terminal. The most critical components of the CNP were still running on the Pegasus mainframe, despite what the Battlestar's cyber security personnel believed. The backdoor was still active, ready to render the ship helpless.

Now all Gina had to do was wait for a Baseship to arrive and blow all of them up. It would be so easy. So simple. She didn't have to do anything more. No need to kill the woman she loved with her hands.

Gina sneaked a look at Helena who had never looked more splendid or irresistible than in this moment, when she was ready to lead her ship into a doomed battle. A small, sad smile appeared on the Cylon's face. It was all over now.

It should have felt right. To fulfill her purpose. To strike against the humans who were their enemies. She frowned. When did Helena became the enemy?! Gina closed her eyes, seeing nothing but her lover's face. No matter what her programing told her, Helena wasn't her enemy. Yet, she was going to die nevertheless.

Permanently. There was no resurrection for her.

Gina stared at the console in front of her. At the monument of her betrayal. Her heart clenched in her chest. If what she was doing was the right thing, why did it paint so much? Why did it feel wrong?!

She blinked and unshed tear and looked at Helena, who was busy giving orders. Then her fingers started moving as in their own volition, blurring over the keyboard.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Caprica Orbital Control**

 **"Heliopolis" Station**

 **High Orbit above Caprica**

It was a normal day. A few minor accidents, a few freighter captains who were a major pain in everyone's ass. The works.

There was nothing that out of the ordinary, if you discount the irregular movement of Colonial Fleet units in the last few hours. Just a few minutes ago, a small fleet consisting of a single Battlestar and her escorts jumped in above Caprica city and dispatched a Raptor towards the surface.

That made Vanessa Noel, the chief controller for this hemisphere of Caprica nervous. She knew that there were rumors, whispers really, that the Fleet was pissed off because the latest round of defense budget cuts. A few hot heads were whispering that said displeasure might prompt some kind of action.

As a level headed citizen, Vanessa had disregarded that idea. It was madness. The Fleet would never ever consider moving against the democratic government of the Colonies, right? Yet here she was, watching what suspiciously looked like a demonstration of force above the capital.

"Battlestar Athena, please respond. You are not cleared for your current orbital track." Vanessa hailed the capital ship for the fifth time.

"Negative, Caprica Control. We have our orders." She got the same answer for the fifth time too.

"Any world from the Defense HQ?" Vanessa asked. She had made inquiries through the proper channels about what the frak was happening but there was no answer yet.

"Nothing, yet."

"Just great." Vanessa grumbled and concentrated on her work, trying very hard not to think what the frak were the military doing in her space.

About ten minutes later she was startled when by one of her subordinates.

"What the frak?" One of the comm operators exclaimed. He was the newest addition to her crew, a green behind the ears kid who was just out of university. "Ma'am, a raptor is transmitting in the open. Code Black, whatever that is." He looked at her with confusion.

Vanessa's blood froze in her veins. She was well aware what Code Black meant. It also explained the abnormal behavior from the fleet. Suddenly she wished that the military was really busy staging a coup or something. It as better than the alternative.

It was suddenly eery quiet in the control center. Most of her people were aware what the message mean. Vanessa took a deep breath, steadying herself for what was to come. "Start clearing all civilian traffic around Caprica. Ground all ships with insufficient fuel. Start evacuating the non-essential personnel from the station." She paused and looked at the few confused people who were obviously unaware of the situation. "Code Black mean that we are at war with the Cylons. That an enemy attack is imminent. Move it people!" She shouted the last sentence, prompting her shocked crew into action.

Vanessa glanced at the nearest DRADIS console. There were hundreds of civilian ships in her area of responsibility. Baring a direct divine intervention, most of them were going to be around if the Cylons attacked for real.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Baseship 51**

 **Staging Ground Sigma**

Well, there was no stopping it now, Cain mussed. The die was cast and the war began. With a major frak up too, because most of the Colonial units patrolling the border managed to get away reasonably intact.

No matter. The Cylons had the strategic surprise and their ace in the hole. It should suffice. They had to make it work anyway or they were all dead. At least he might be able to finally rest in peace if the worst happened.

"First fleet, jump minus two. Don't frak it up!" Cain ordered. "All First wave units concentrate on destroying enemy mobile forces. Second wave are to strike orbital defenses and ground targets. Baseships 54 through 57 are to neutralize Caprica city and critical colonial ground installations in their AO. Third Wave are our operational reserve. I want you to jump in the moment I call you in." Cain growled at his brothers and sisters, hoping for a miracle so they would actually execute the plan without fraking up by the numbers.

He sighed. That was probably too much to ask for. Not when the Colonials already knew that something was wrong with their cyber security.

Time was up. Cain, who was patched up into the Baseship's sensors could feel the universe shift as the fleet started jumping. One moment he could see the nearby friendly ships, in the next the stars changed and he had to wait until DRADIS refreshed with new data. Meanwhile, thousands of raiders were being launched as the first assault wave deployed above Caprica.

For a moment, Cain dared believe that it would work. Both raiders and Baseships were broadcasting the shut down signal for all they were worth. It should have been enough to make the defenders helpless sheep, ready for the slaughter.

Cain's first clue that Cavil's Plan TM was fraked up beyond belief was when his leading wave of raiders was swept from space by unbroken Viper squadrons. DRADIS refreshed, showing uncompromised enemy task force above Caprica city. Two whole Battlestar Groups were moving in to flank his forces, disregarding the signal. At least those two forces were very light on fighters and the Orbital defense network was silent. So far.

"Well, frak. So much for the Plan. Raiders concentrate on enemy small craft. Baseships 51 though 63 concentrate fire on Battlestar Ares. Baseships 64 through 69 and attached raiders, intercept..." Cain knew what he had to do. Right now he had overwhelming numerical superiority. He had to leverage it, sweeping all resistance above Caprica and destroying the political nerve center of the Colonies. He only hoped that the strike aimed at the Fleet Headquarters above Picon was going to be more successful. A victory there was even more vital than one at Caprica. The Fleet yards and the HQ were the most important targets in Helios Alpha.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Battlestar "Ares"**

 **Task Force "Hades" Flagship**

 **Low orbit over Caprica**

"So it begins. Concentrate on targets Alpha and Beta. Have the cruisers strike Gamma. The CAP is free to engage. Keep Squadrons Crimson and Jester in reserve." Admiral Demeter ordered. "ETA on those Guard squadrons?"

"They are already launching. The first will be here in five minutes."

"Close enough. That's a lot of toasters. Let's thing their numbers. Have our Raptors flush their missile pods at them and bring them to rearm." The Admiral frowned. "Why aren't the orbital defenses shooting?"

"They fell off the grid after the Cylons sent that signal."

"Load nuclear missiles. XO ready your key, we'll be launching when the raiders are thinned. Someone tell the civilians to get the Frak out of my battle!" Demeter snapped when a liner got in front of the first Cylon barrage and vanished from DRADIS after intercepting more than a few ship-killers.


	6. Chapter 2 Parts 3&4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **Chapter 2: Welcome to the war! We have front row seats for everyone!**

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 3: What can change the nature of a man?**

* * *

 **Battlestar "Columbia"**

 **Low orbit over Caprica**

Colonel Alan Olger, looked at the DRADIS image of his home-world. The Battlestar's powerful sensors showed a hemisphere of Caprica, centered on the capital. There was a single, reinforced BSG, centered on Ares, which provided the biggest concentration of Colonial mobile forces in the AO. Another behemoth, a Mercury too, the Nemesis, was nearby. That was Admiral Corman's flagship. It's escorts were coming in, a Valkyrie Battlestar or a Berzerk cruiser jumping in every few minutes.

If the DRADIS sats surrounding Caprica were to be believed, there was another BSG covering the other side of the planet. However it was made up by only three Valkyries and a handful of cruisers. So far, there was no sight of Columbia's own escorts, which were supposed to be purging their CNP. At least his own girl was safe. Being one of the older ships in the fleet she was near the bottom of the list to get that gods damned upgrade. Which in turn meant that the battle-wagon had more crew than one might expect. Just enough to use it after most critical networks were severed.

That didn't help much with the worry the usually easy going officer was feeling. The fact that Fleet security had been compromised to such an extent that it made most of the Colonial forces potential helpless targets boggled the mind. Even with the warning, the Fleet was going to be fraked if the toasters appeared right now.

At least Commander Williams was picked up without accident and should be docking any moment now. Olger looked at the closest DRADIS feed and relaxed a bit. The Raptor sent to retrieve his superior officer was on final approach. At least one thing was going according to plan today.

"CAG, status on our birds?" The Colonel asked after picking the closest wireless set and punching the correct combination.

"Most of our Mark VI's are nominal. We have 85 ready to launch. The fives squadron is green across the board. However most of our new birds are fraked. In about ten to fifteen minutes I can give you hundred and ten, may be hundred and twenty vipers, sir. The rest will need at least another hour, if we are lucky. I don't have enough people to strip the CNP from those vipers and jury rig a half decent avionics package."

"That would have to do. I want all available birds ready to launch at a moments notice."

"Aye, sir. The pilots are ready. Just give the word."

"Well done. Carry on, CAG."

"Sir, the Commander just landed in the starboard hangar and he's on his way." One of the Marines guarding the CIC reported after receiving a call from the escort party that brought Williams up.

"Good. Comms, any word on when some reinforcements will grace us with their presence. Caprica looks awfully uncovered today, all those civies buzzing around notwithstanding."

"Negative, sir. The last orders from Fleet HQ still stand."

Hold defensive position above the capital and do you best to spoil any possible attack, wrapped up in the proper fleet speak. Even with the Orbital defenses in play, the Colonel wasn't confident that a determined attack could be halted by the handful of warships in orbit. The best they could do was dying and taking as many of the toasters as possible.

"Any change from Ares or Nemesis?"

"Negative. We are to continue covering this flank."

* * *

 **=TCW=**

"Lia, you'll listen to your mum and behave for me, right?" Karl kissed his daughter's head and gently ruffed her hair.

"Uhuh." The excitable kid nodded absentmindedly while looking around with a huge smile on her face.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Karl said and reassuringly squeezed the hand of his wife, before leaving his family in a conference room near the CIC. The compartment was reasonably comfortable one of the best protected places within the ship due to how deep within the hull it was.

After the door of the conference room hissed closed, Commander Williams turned his attention to the Sergeant who was the only NCO in the squad that picked him up.

"Sergeant Zhan, please post a few marines to keep an eye on my family. Lieutenant Ronson, get in touch with Captain Grove.I want platoons guarding engineering, damage control and the CIC just in case this is for real. In the last war the toasters loved to vent the atmosphere and turn our own ships against us if they managed to board in numbers."

"Yes, sir.

"I'm on it."

The marines snapped salutes and started calling on the wireless while the Williams made his way in the CIC.

"Commander on Deck!" The senior marine guarding Columbia's nerve center all but shouted.

"Carry on people. XO, give me the short version."

"We are fraked, boss."

Karl smirked at his old friend. "That's the fleet's SOP. Elaborate."

The Colonel did so, explaining the situation.

"Well, frak indeed. I want..."

"Multiple DRADIS contacts! Capital ship range! No IFF and we are getting some strange signal."

Williams winced when the comm station whined, giving tortured digital tone.

"Launch all Vipers!" The Commander hissed and grabbed his head which was suddenly pounding with murderous pain. "All flak guns ready for defensive fire. Get me a firing solution for the nearest unknown." Williams could feel his voice warping and his vision blackened for a moment.

It was a surreal feeling. It felt as if a dam had been unleashed within his mind, flooding him with memories that weren't his. With orders that meant to betray everything he believed in his whole life. Who he was.

But that wasn't right, was it?! He wasn't Karl Williams. Never was. He was a model eleven Cylon infiltrator. The only one of his kind in the Colonies. And he was supposed to do his best to ensure his command died, opening a way for the Cylon fleet that just jumped in.

That was right. Just a few carefully worded wrong orders and the Columbia would be rendered vulnerable and swept from space. It should be easy. Simple. After all, he was a Cylon not a fraking flesh and blood human. By all means he should hate his creators, want to facilitate the reckoning that was coming on the wings of his kind's fleet.

"Unknown ships are launching small craft. Hundreds of them.." The DRADIS operator paused, his voice getting quieter. "Thousands." He corrected himself.

"How many capital ships are out there?"

"Twenty five plus. DRADIS is having problem distinguishing them behind the swarm of fighters."

"Orders, sir?" Olger asked, looking at him.

"Commander, we lost telemetry from the orbital defenses." The tactical officer reported.

Karl the Cylon straightened, waving at Olger, signaling the Colonel that he was all right. He opened his mouth to speak and paused. His head turnedtowards the bulkhead behind Williams' family was resting, waiting for a word from him. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click of teeth.

"Commander?! Karl! Snap out of it man!" Olger ordered. When he didn't immediately receive an answer, the XO shook his head in pity and started snapping orders. "Viper squadrons are free to engage at will. CAG, remind your people to stay out of our fire lines. Guns, target Alpha, fire for effect. I want a flak screen up in fifteen seconds."

Williams remained frozen in place. The man, the Cylon he once was, fought for supremacy with the Colonial officer entrusted with one of the most powerful ships humanity ever built. With the father whose daughter was less than twenty meters away and would be doomed if he followed his programing. Karl closed his eyes, images of Lia and Allison flashing through his mind.

His family, his crew, his friends… Were they a price he was willing to pay so the machine he used to be could fulfill its purpose?

The answer should have been easy, simple. Logical. For both the machine and the man. Yet, it was anything but. Or perhaps it was.

Just different for each of them.

Karl shook as the old, yet new memories were washing through his mind, trying to alter who he was, what he was. It should have been simple, to restore the Cylon so he could be the one in charge. It very well might have been… if he has been an infiltrator for a few years. Or a decade tops.

He was the oldest one, inserted while his body was merely fifteen years old, replacing a boy who was conveniently disappeared by the first generation infiltrators who had adopted the child. For more than thirty years he had believed himself to be a loyal Colonial citizen, latter sailor and officer. All that experience was not so easily supplanted by the memories of living a few short years as a Cylon. Yet all that rage against the humans who created him was still fresh in his heart, burning as hot now as it did all those decades ago.

In the end, Karl found that he had a choice. He steadied himself and stood straighter. For a moment his face became a mask of fury that made his XO, who saw it, take a step back. Williams took a deep breath, taking himself under control.

It was done. He knew who he was and what he was going to do.

"I'm all right now, Alan. Let's just say that I had a revelation on how this mess," he waved at the monitor showing the DRADIS feed, "came to be."

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Part 4: Ragnarok rising**

 **Battlestar "Ares"**

 **Task Force "Hades" Flagship**

 **Low orbit over Caprica**

"BSG 94 reports fifteen Baseships in their AO before they were jammed." The wireless operator reported.

"That makes about fifty of the frakers." Admiral Demeter frowned.

"Admiral Corman confirms that you have tactical command, sir. He'll be trying to get us any available support."

"Admiral Demeter confirms, I'm in command of all Fleet assets in Caprica's AO." After that John, returned his attention to the tactical plot.

Unless DRADIS was royally fraked up by enemy ECM, each of those capitals carried a few hundred fighters and bombers. At least. He didn't need to look at the big flat screen showing the angry wave of enemy small craft throwing itself at the all too few Viper squadrons ready to meet them. Well, that's why all available Raptors were out there too, loaded with as many missile pods as possible.

Still, that wasn't going to be enough.

"All Battlestars are to launch two nuclear missiles, targeting pattern Epsilon, after the Raptors finish their barrage. Vipers are to pull back for the strike before engaging. Weapons, I wan out nuclear salvo to be coordinated for maximum effect. Make so."

"Aye, sir. Relaying orders." The Comms officer answered and started speaking rapidly.

The Admiral's eyes bored at the tactical plot. The Raptors had come to the front or in between gaps in the Viper formations and were launching hundreds of missiles. For a moment the screen flickered as the DRADIS struggled tracking everything flying through the battlefield. He winced as another civilian ship went afoul of the leading enemy barrage, which was still ten seconds from the vanguard of the Colonial forces. Keeping his task force at low orbit appeared to be a boon, because the Cylons had jumped far beyond optimal firing range for each side. Hell, their missiles needed nearly a minute to reach his defensive lines and that was only because he was going to stand his ground and protect the capital below.

The Cylons apparently weren't going to try pick the defenders with long range missile fire and bomber strikes, instead they were advancing after an almost solid wave of fighters. If the count was right, there were more than ten thousand of the frakers screening the toaster's capital ships.

"Those are ugly buggers." The XO muttered nodding at the enemy carriers, shaped as two stylized stars crossed together.

"Big too, at least in volume. Though those arms can't have a decent armor. Not with all the raiders they were carrying and those missile batteries."

The latter was a surprise. Demeter had expected more conventional approach to warfare. So far, no slugs were detecting coming their way. While DRADIS was somewhat degraded by ECM and all small craft flying in between the two sides, not to mention the thousands of missiles that were being expended as if there was no tomorrow, there was no obvious sight of gun emplacements over the enemy Baseships. Which was curious and an obvious weakness if true.

"They are just begging for a flanking force to jump on top of them." Fell mussed wishfully.

"Until our reinforcements materialize we'll simply have to keep our guest occupied and focused on us." Demeter smiled thinly.

A hasty, audacious and according to a few, aninsane plan had emerged in the few hours of warning the colonials had. Once the possible vulnerability of the CNP was taken seriously, all plans for a stand up fight were abandoned… unless you had the misfortune to be a part of a few notable units. Like Demeter's task force or a few of the older Battlestars that were still commissioned. Like the _Columbia_ , which had to cover the right flank by herself while her BSG was away, sorting out their networks and making sure that their Vipers and Raptors won't be shut down.

At least now he had a confirmation that the Cylon defector who broke into his apartment was apparently genuine about the enemy jumped in, the Raptor that came directly from a border clash confirmed that the toasterscould affect ships with the CNP installed or even shut down Vipers with a signal.

"This is Cup-bearer. We are bingo on Arrows, returning to rearm." The voice of the captain in overall command of all Raptor strike craft within Task Force Hades sounded in the CIC. Moments later it the DRADIS updated showing all colonial small craft twist in space and pull back towards their mother-ships.

"It's time to make this more interesting." Demeter smirked. At that moment he could hear the distinct sound of PD guns opening fire being transmitted through the hull. The first enemy barrage was in range.

The Admiral and Colonel Fell spun their keys, authorizing the launch of nuclear ordinance.

"Weapons, you ready?"

"Targeting solutions refined and loaded through out the fleet, Sir."

"Good. Fire."

Red buttons were pressed and eighteen nuclear tipped missiles left their tubes. Maneuvering thrusters propelled them in the right direction and Tylium engines roared to life, accelerating the ordinance towards their destination. At the same time the main guns of the Battlestars and their escorts spoke as one, sending fragmentation shells at the approaching wave of enemy fighters.

A few seconds later, another wave of missiles followed. All of those were electronic warfare birds and decoys.

Meanwhile, Vipers and Raptors are maneuvering wildly, doing their best to clear the firing lanes.

Accidentally, the nuclear missiles flew on such vectors, that they would eventually reach two of the leading Baseships unless they were intercepted. That was something that didn't whatever toaster was in charge didn't fail to notice. Though that particular Cylon had a bit of problem. Among the hundreds of missiles that were shot by the Raptors, about ten percent were EW birds. While very short lived, they were enough to scramble comms for a significant portion of the incoming raider swarm. All the ECM flooding the space between both fleets wasn't helping much either.

That led to interesting results. Part of the swarm actually tried pulling out, so they could get new orders. Those were led by the somewhat brighter of the lobotomized raiders who actually retained a tiny shred of self preservation in their active programing despite the inhibitors they were implanted with. Well, the rest were simply machines following a set list of instructions or the fragmented orders they could receive. So they flew towards the missiles, determined to shoot them down. The first of them slammed straight into a murderous field of shrapnel made by fragmentation rounds.

Seconds before that, the nuclear missiles, which were now flying among a triple their number of decoys, spread out, taking vectors that would soon lead them in the heart of the swarm. Raiders did their best to shoot down the wildly evading ordinance, taking out forty five of their targets. Only ten of those were actually nuclear.

The remaining eight, penetrated into the confused swarm and detonated before a lucky Cylon could hit them. Short lived suns lit up the skies above Caprica, obliterating a couple of thousand raiders and frying the systems of those who were too close, yet beyond the edge of the hard kill radius, which itself was rather small.

"All Vipers except our close defense squadrons are free to engage at will. ETA on Raptor reload?" Admiral Demeter spoke calmly.

"About five minutes after the last one lands." The answer came over the wireless.

"Close enough. Every Raptor that is reloaded is to launch immediately and augment our flak screens." Demeter ordered. He frowned when the DRADIS finally cut through the interference from the nukes. Five Baseships were detaching from the main force and advancing towards his right flank when the Columbia hanged alone. He actually expected more enemy ships to go after her. Stranger still, only a few hundred small craft detached from the wounded swarm and headed that way.

"Sir, we have confirmation that BSG 94 is facing fifteen enemy Baseships and assorted small craft. They are requesting reinforcements at our earliest convenience."

"Patch the request to Admiral Corman and tell him that the Columbia could use some help too."

The Ares slightly shuddered as a single conventional ship-killer slammed into her armored nose, the first enemy missile that managed to pass through the gauntlet of PD guns and Vipers.

"Fist enemy barrage has been deal with. Minimal damage across the fleet. Second is inbound, ETA five seconds." The DC Control officer announced.

A few seconds later, the Colonial Viper squadrons clashed with the leading elements of their Cylon counterparts.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Caprica Orbital Control**

 **"Heliopolis" Station**

 **High Orbit above Caprica**

"This is Colonial Hea..."

Vanessa growled when the frantic transmission cut mid sentence, the hauler disappearing from DRADIS a moment later. Dozens of civilian ships were caught between the few Fleet units guarding Caprica and what appeared to be the whole fraking Cylon fleet. Neither side appeared to particularly care about the unarmed ships that flew apart when hit with military ordinance.

"Where in Hades' name is the fleet?!" One of the traffic controllers shouted in despair when yet another civilian ship, this time a liner with hundreds of innocent people was ran down by enemy fighters and shredded by gunfire.

That was something everyone aboard Heliopolis wanted to know. There were hundreds of Battlestars in the fleet and if the DRADIS and IFF weren't lying, only ten were trying to stop the Cylon rampage.

"Athena have mercy..." Someone muttered.

"DRADIS contacts!" Another shouted.

Not that it was needed. The flash of the FTL jump was close and strong enough to lit up the insides of the control center. Vanessa looked outside and her blood froze. Five unknown ships, just as big as a Battlestar each were almost on top of them. For a moment it appeared that they exploded, with fragments poised to rain on top of the Colonial station. Then Vanessa's mind caught on what was happening. Those ships were all right, unfortunately. And they were launching hundreds of fighters.

She just starred as streaks of light detached from the arms of those ships and headed straight at her.

"May the gods have mercy on us..." Vanessa managed to mutter before a hundred conventional missiles tore Heliopolis apart.

Outside, the Cylon's First fleet reserve was entering the fray.

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **Battlestar "Pegasus"**

 **Picon Fleet Yards**

 **High Orbit over Picon**

"Cylon forces are assaulting Caprica. You are to take command of all mobile units in the AO and ensure the security of Fleet HQ and the Picon Fleet Yards. Engineering is currently purging our mainframe and most systems are down. I just got word from Caprica that the ODN is compromised so you are on you own for now, Helena. As soon as we have some ships cleared from malware we'll be feeding them straight in the fight above Caprica and here."

"We are to buy enough time for the rest of the fleet." Admiral Cain confirmed that she understood her orders.

Never mind that they were likely to be their death sentence.

Behind her lover, Gina was busy trying to disable the CNP so the compromised program would be unable to be the death of them all. Never mind the fact that it should not have been installed yet. For the first time in her short life, the infiltrator cursed her efficiency which insured that the Pegasus would be crippled.

She just needed a few more moments!

"DRADIS contacts! Capital ship range, unknown configuration!" The sensor operator shouted.

"Gods speed, Admiral." The wireless connection was cut off and Gina wondered if that was the last they would hear from the Colonies Fleet Admiral.

"Launch all Vipers. I want all ships in range to consolidate above Fleet HQ and the yards!" Helena snapped an order.

Gina started typing even faster. The keyboard was barely able to keep up. She needed just a few more seconds!

* * *

 **=TCW=**

 **CIC**

 **Battlestar Galactica**

 **Ragnar Anchorage**

"Time until those Two's in storage can be checked up and brought on board?" Commander Adama asked.

"According to Chief Tyrol, at least four hours." The XO answered briskly.

"No time for that. I want him and a party of his choosing to stay behind to have the birds fixed up and ready for launch. We'll be likely using this place as a safe staging area. How long until our Mark sevens are ready?"

"About ten hours for most of them. We have thirty Mark II and a ten or so Sevens which will be operational in the next twenty minutes."

"What about our scratch force?" Adama asked.

While the Galactica was loading her magazines, a few other fleet units had sought refuge at the anchorage. As the longest serving Commander in the small group, Adama had taken command and now he was in charge of a single Valkyrie, just like his previous command and a pair of Berzerk cruisers – the Loyal, Serpent and Naga respectively.

"They'll have about fifty Vipers between them in half hour or so."

William winced. That would be more active fighters that he would have, which was good, though in the end it was a pittance compared to how much Vipers such a force should be able to muster.

"Commander! We got priority transmission from Caprica! The Cylons are engaging fleet units under the command of Admiral Demeter above the capital. All available ships which have restored their network security within Helios Alpha are to either join the fight or reinforce our forces above Picon, whatever is practical."

"We are out of time." Adama turned his head towards his XO. "Call Tyrol. We are finishing loading in ten minutes and leaving. He and his people are to remain here. I want them to restore as many vipers as practical and an estimate for restoring the anchorage itself as an active base." The Commander paused for a moment. "Call our escorts, I want to know when they will be ready."

Moments later, Commander Shen's voice sounded over the wireless. "Sir, we'll be combat capable in twenty minutes. Fifteen for the Naga and about twenty five for Serpent."

"Barely enough time to secure the munitions." Tigh mussed.

"We can work with that, Commander Shen. We are jumping to Caprica as soon as practical."

* * *

 **=TCW=**

I made an order of battle for the initial clash above Caprica. It should be noted that the Cylons have deployed every combat ship they have besides the operational reserves of each fleet and that's in case they didn't outright deploy it for the initial strike. In addition they have rather powerful covering forces protecting their resurection ships and that's it. They have nothing more to deploy, no strategic reserves to speak of.

The Colonials on the other hand are busy purging, de-networking or both, as well as trying to get in space everything that can fly and shoot that don't have the CNP installed.

* * *

Active Colonial units over Caprica:

* * *

Task Force "Hades" Admiral John Demeter commanding

BS: Ares; Mercury type /200 vipers 50 raptors/

BS: Victorious, Dauntless and Honor; Valkyrie type /30 vipers 5 raptors each/

Cruisers: Berzerk, Basilisc, Manticore, Scyla, Minotaur; Berzerc class/10 vipers 2 raptors each/; Poseidon't Pride, Zeus Thunder; Loki type heavy cruiser/support/

* * *

BSG 53 Admiral Corman commanding

BS Nemesis; Mercury type /200 vipers 50 raptors/

BS VAliant, Fearless, Valkyrie type /30 vipers; 5 raptors each/

Cruisers: Harpy, Medusa; Berzerk Class /10 vipers 2 raptors each/

* * *

BS: Columbia; Galactica class / 120 vipers; 25 raptors/; Commander Karl Williams commanding;

* * *

BSG 94

BS Valliant, Triumph, Prideful; Valkyrie type/30 vipers 5 raptors each/

Cruisers: Satyr, Gryphon; Giant; Berzerk Class /10 viprs 2 raptros each/

* * *

Total:

12 Battlestars; 2 Mercury, 1 galactica, 9 Valkyrie;

12 Cruisers: 2 Loki heavy cruisers; 10 Berzerk cruisers;

Vipers:890

Raptors: 180

* * *

First Cylon fleet, attacking Caprica:

* * *

Baseship 51 - flagship; A Number One, Cain commanding

* * *

TF1/First wave/: 37 Baseships; /430 raiders 20 heavy raiders each/ Combat arm of the fleet;

TF2/Second wave/: 11 Baseships /250 raiders 200 heavy raiders each/ Tasked with surface bombardment and deployment of ground units;

TF3/Thirt Wave/: 5 Baseships /430 raiders 20 heavy raiders/ - operational reserve;

* * *

Total:

53 Baseships;

20810 raiders;

3040 heavy raiders;


	7. Chapter 3 Parts 1&2

**AN: Part 1 was betaed by ProdigiousThunder on the space battles forums! Thank you very much!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **The Cylon Wars**

 **Chapter 3: Ragnarok rising**

 **=CW=**

 **CIC**

 **Battlestar Perseus**

 **High orbit over Virgon**

"The last of our escorts jumped away clean." Colonel Tanya Simons reported. The raven haired woman gave her CO a grim nod and returned her attention to the Dradis repeater.

"Thank you gods for small mercies." Commander Zachary Howell let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed his bald temples and turned to the nearest comm operator. "Status of the Royal units?"

"We have two cruiser squadrons moving into escort positions. The rest are forming defensive lines above the major cities. We have thirty cruisers and twenty two frigates on station. Planetary defense squadrons are scrambling. The QRF force is in the air and will be on station in three. Twenty minutes for the next batch. The rest will be up after their pilots report for duty."

"Weapons, I want all tubes hot. Load one through six with nukes, the rest – conventional ship killers."

"Wilco, sir."

Howell's green eyes shifted to his XO as she spoke.

"If this was any other colony, we would be fraked." Tanya muttered. "CAG, I'm seeing one less Raptor squadron on Dradis." She spoke aloud.

"We're fitting them with missile racks. They will be deploying in two."

"Make sure of it and next time give us a warning shout!"

"Wilco, sir!"

"Dradis contacts! One light seconds and approaching! Bearing..."

"Big frakers..." The Commander whispered.

"Alpha and Delta Cruiser squadrons are in position."

"Good. Designate closest enemy contact target Alpha. Weapons remove it from my sky. Coordinate missile strikes on contact designated Beta – that ship on their far left flank with our escorts. I want three nukes in the third and fourth salvo each. Fire plan Hades."

"Wilco, sir!"

"XO, any idea when our battle group will be ready?"

"Network security estimates twenty to half an hour at best."

"That's a long, long time."

"Priority One transmission! Unknown ships just jumped above Leonis. At least ten capitals."

"New Dradis contact! It's a Raptor."

"Sir, the new contacts wants to speak with whoever's in charge."

"Put it through. I'll talk with them. XO, time?"

"The closest enemy contact will be in range in two minutes. Status change, they're launching small craft." Tanya paused. "A lot of the frakers too."

"Can't be helped." Then the CO smirked. "The PDF squadrons would reach us before them." The Commander grabbed his wireless set from the plot table in the center of the compartment and pressed it to his ears.

"This is Commander Howell of the _Perseus._ Report!"

"Sir, this is Flight Lieutenant Marcus! Ident code sigma-one-seven-omega-gamma-three-one-one! Troy is under attack! At least one unknown in the battlestar range and hundreds of fighters!"

"Understood. We'll sent reinforcements when available. Perseus Actual out."

 **=CW=**

 **Presidential bunker complex**

 **Caprica City**

 **Caprica**

"Can someone tell me what the frak is happening across the colonies?!" Adar lost his temper and shouted at his military and political advisory. "General?" He glared at the highest ranking officer in the bunker.

General Kelso Marik put down the wireless receiver he was listening to and looked up from the sheet of paper he was busy scratching numbers in.

"It's too early to say with any degree of certainty, but a rough picture is emerging. There are full fleets hitting Caprica and Picon as we speak. Another is divided between Tauron and Gememnon and we've got scrambled reports of strikes against military depots and bases across Helios Alpha. We have confirmed more than hundred and fifty Cylon baseships in system. Our situation is grim – there are scratch forces attempting to slow them down while the rest of the fleet can ensure network security and reinforce."

"What about the other systems?"

"At least two smaller fleets in Beta. Both Virgon and Leonis are under siege, though that's the first good news we've got so far. At latest report there're ten baseships attacking Virgon. The Royal Guard and the Battlestar Perseus are protecting that world and they have parity with the enemy. Our forces there should be able to hold on until reinforced."

"What about Gamma and Delta?"

"We received reports of heavy attacks on the Scorpia Fleet yards before losing contact with the fleet command and control node there. All comms from Scorpia are jammed but we know that at least twenty enemy ships were in the area. The Libran National guard is holding though we've lost two Battlestars in that engagement. No word from Sagittaron after they reported coming under attack."

The general looked back at his list.

"Delta is a mixed bag. We lost orbital control over Aerilon, Aquaria is heavily contested. The good news is that our forces beat off the attack over Canceron and will reinforce the other planets in system as soon as they receive backup or the planetary defense grid is restored."

"What are our losses?"

"Light so far, but that's because most of the fleet is avoiding contact until they've restored network security. When that's done, it will get ugly. Initially we may need to feed in our units peace meal to avoid losing critical strategic locations."

"What's the situation here on Caprica?"

For the first time since the attack began, General Marik looked all his sixty five years.

"Bad. Without the fixed defenses, Admirals Demeter and Corman don't have the numbers to stop the toasters. Unless we receive reinforcements in the next few minutes the Cylons will establish orbital dominance."

"And then they will nuke us all to Hades!" Adar spat.

"Then they nuke us." Marik nodded.

"How's the evacuation going?" The president stared at long table dominating the room.

"Not good. There's panic in the streets and most major roads leading out of the city have been blocked by accidents and abandoned vehicles. The police is doing their best to lead as many people as possible to the shelters or evacuate those in the suburbs away from the city proper."

"We're mobilizing as many military transports to help in the evacuation, but anything that can carry weapons is being armed and sent to the fight in orbit." Marik added.

"What about that defector who warned us? What else can she tell us?"

"Before she was sent undercover, the Cylons planned to attack with at least three hundred baseships. While they aren't as good as a Battlestar in a straight up slugging match, every one of them is configured as carrier and heavy missile platform. Our pilots would be heavily outnumbered in any engagement. On the bright side, they appear to lack any escorts. Once the networks are secure, that should give an edge to our Battlestar groups."

"If we can hold long enough."

Marik simply nodded.

"What's our best play here?" Adar asked.

The general was silent for a few seconds.

"Concentrate our available forces on critical objectives – fleet yards, our biggest depots and the critical wartime industry. If we try protecting every single colony and facility we have we might lose everything. The next few hours will be critical and decide if the toasters knock us out of the war or not."

The other advisers exploded with shouts of outrage – screaming at the general and each other.

"SILENCE!" Adar roared after nearly a minute of pandemonium. Then he slumped back in his chair. "General make it so." The President spoke in a quiet, hollow voice.

One simple sentence. It was more than enough to condemn millions perhaps billions of his own people – all in a desperate bid to save the rest.

 **=CW=**

 **Part 2**

 **Battlestar Athena**

 **BSG 12 Flagship**

 **Dark space**

Commander Jeffery Solas, the acting CO of BSG 12 was quietly fuming with fury. His friend and mentor Quin was dead with everyone on board of the _Persephone_ and _Hoplit._ The damn toasters got them, the motherless bastards.

The Commander took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself. At least the rest of the BSG was intact even if they couldn't put more than a handful of small craft in space. The kriffing CNP was almost purged and that left Sloan with a decision to make.

"XO, are the calculations ready?" Jeffery asked.

Colonel Omega Morison looked up from her position – hovering above the Navigator like a vengeful goddess urging him to work faster.

"We have a jump point above Caprica – close enough to help cover the capital." If its still there left unsaid. "Additional jump coordinates will be ready shortly – to Picon yards in two and we already have partial calks for bringing us back here."

"Good enough." Solas nodded in approval. He idly scratched his short beard which just skirted over what the regulations permitted and turned his attention to another section.

"Network security, status." The Commander ordered.

"CNP is gone, backups are at ninety percent. Give us a few more minutes and we're good to go." The Major handling cyber security reported.

"Good. Inform me the moment our network is up. Tactical?"

"Sparta and Thessia will be up in five." The Captain overseeing the Tactical section reported. Those were Solas other heavy hitters – Valkyrie Battlestars. "The Sea Serpent and Hound will be operational in two and four respectively."

"That's great. Sent my compliment to their commanders. CAG?"

"Commander, it's a mess. We can give you a Viper squadron, perhaps two across the BSG in five. Three Raptors too and that's it. We simply lack the resources to jury rig the test of the Sevens and as you know, we have only the newest model – they're a bitch to run without the CNP."

"It will have to do."

 **=CW=**

 **Battlestar "Atlantia"**

 **BSG 1 Flagship**

 **Scorpia Fleet yards**

One hour. It wasn't quite enough to both remove the CNP and restore the older software from its backups. Yet, the _Atlantia_ was the newest Mercury Battlestar in the fleet. The most powerful and more importantly, it had the most advanced and fastest computers in the fleet.

That meant when the Cylons appeared, the Battlestar was fully operational even if a lot of its systems were under local or even manual control while the networks were restored.

The _Atlantia's_ escorts were much smaller ships, which while having older, slower computers, had less to do to become fully operational once again. They barely made it.

"Dradis contacts! Thirty unknown jumped just beyond extreme weapon range!" The sensor operator shouted. It took him a moment to calm down and continue reporting in a professional tone as his training kicked in. "Status change – they're launching fighters and closing the range!"

"This is it people! Fire plan Gama. Keep the Vipers covering the yards on station. We're going with Delta one." Admiral Nagala's voice was calm, reassuring her crew that everything was all right.

Some even believed it.

BSG 1 was the most powerful conventional Battlestar group within the Colonial navy. It had the newest, most advanced ships if you didn't count Demeter's experimental command. While they operated well bellow the usual norm, the CNP was removed from their systems.

However, the Admiral had two big problems – just a third of her fighters were ready and that was thanks to the yard dogs who helped tear out the CNP and jury rig an avionics package that would make the things marginally flyable.

Second, Nagala had only fifteen ships – four Battlestars, all Valkyries besides her own mercury and the rest were Berzerk escorts. With full fighter cover and networked defenses, that might have been enough to take on the unknown and the virtual armada of small craft that preceded them.

If she could trust that the yard fixed defenses would be up and running, Nagala would be confiding on taking this enemy and at the very least fighting them to stand still. With a bit of luck and no screw ups, she might even win.

Nagala felt anything but lucky that day.

"Admiral, we're being jammed. We lost contact with anything beyond the AO." The Comm officer announced.

"Do we have stable comms within the AO?" The Admiral inquired.

"There's some static but we have comms." The LT nodded.

"Status on the planetary defenses?" Nagala asked.

"QRF is in the air, taking positions to cover the ODN." Tactical responded. "Further guard units will be joining us in the next ten to fifteen minutes."

"Status of reinforcements?"

"BSG 5 should be jumping in within the next twenty minutes. No ETA for further reinforcements."

"Enemy in range. Opening fire." The Weapons officer announced a moment before the Mercury shuddered as her primary batteries hurled kinetic and explosive death at the approaching enemy.

The range was extreme and most guns were on manual control. Yet, there were too many raiders incoming, flying too close to each other for many shots to miss – especially when the first salvos were fragmentation rounds that shattered when their fuses detonated after traveling through a per-programmed distance.

Cylon fighters died as they met pieces of steel flying at obscene velocities. The rest simply redressed their ranks and spread out, making the next salvos less effective. It wasn't like the incoming fire was accurate or dense enough to make a difference.

Behind the riders, their mother-ships started launching their ship-killers, adding nukes, EW birds and more mundane decoys in the mix in a bid to test and preferably brute force through the Colonial defenses.

"Admiral, the Cylons are emitting some kind of signal. It's coming from the fighters." The Comm operator announced after consulting with the Dradis section next to him.

"Any effect?" Nagala asked, doing a great job of keeping her concern to herself.

A few seconds of terse silence passed while her people searched for an answer.

"Negative. The fleet not affected."

Nagala was about to smile, when the Comm operator shouted: "Belay that. We just lost contact with the Fleet base. Fixed defenses are going off-line."

"Enemy small craft is jumping next to the yards, CAP is engaging!" The Dradis operator added.

So it was true then, the networks were compromised.

Nagala frowned. She was informed that the CNP had been purged from the Scorpia fleet node just a few minutes ago. Apparently that hadn't been the case.

"Radiological alarm! Detecting nukes in the incoming enemy raiders and behind us at the yards." The Dradis operator lost his composure for a moment and shouted.

"Continue following the plan. The yard will have to take care of itself." Hopefully some of it would even survive.

"New Dradis contacts! Mark..."

Nagala stared at the plot where eight amber points appeared on the Cylon flank. Enemy reinforcements?

"We've got IFF!" Dradis added excitedly. "It's BSG 21!"

Nagala smiled viciously as the newcomers symbols shifted in color, becoming friendly green. Now she had the numbers to give the Cylons hell.

"The fleet will advance at flank speed. Bring us straight down their throats. Navigation – I was jump plotted above the yards. We'll smash through the enemy lines blowing up as many of the toasters as we can and reposition. Tactical, coordinate firing patterns and Comms raise BSG 21 actual."


	8. Chapter 3 Parts 3&4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **The Cylon Wars**

 **Chapter 3: Ragnarok rising**

 **Part 3**

 **Battlestar Ares**

 **High orbit over Caprica**

The Battlestar shuddered under John's feet when three missiles slammed into its port side. Fortunately they all had conventional warheads – so far not a single Cylon nuke had made it through the defenses. That wasn't going to last. The toasters were advancing and relentlessly cutting the range.

"Raptors?" The Admiral asked.

"The last will be rearmed and out in a minute. However, we already have birds red on ammo." The CAG answered.

"No matter. All Raptors are to advance and flush their missiles against the Raiders engaging our Vipers. At the same time the CAP is to make combat landings. We're jumping on low orbit in two minutes. Surviving Vipers are to break engagement and pull back as practical."

There was a moment of silence on the bridge. Demeter could feel the CAG's glare despite the man being close to the flight pods. John was well aware that his orders were signing the death sentences of most fighter jocks outside – he doubted that more than a few would successfully pull back before being swarmed and blown to bits.

Unfortunately, the situation didn't give him many tactical options. Once those basestars closed the range, they would be able to concentrate their fire more effectively and destroy the Colonial ships standing between them and Caprica.

"The last enemy ships to jump in are closing on the Columbia." The Dradis operator announced.

Demeter's eyes snapped to the part of the plot representing the flank. Sure enough, now there were thirteen baseships flying straight at the aging Battlestar. Behind the bigger group one of the Cylon capitals was drifting – leaking air, water and fuel with a chunk of debris representing enemy taken down by Columbia.

Still, a single Battlestar and escort had no prayer in hell of slowing down, much less stopping the weight of metal coming their way.

Demeter tapped a couple of buttons and zooming in. He stared at the enemy approach vector interposed by the tactical computer as well as their speed. It was going to be close. Perhaps too close – that flank was going to get hammered before the jump.

Fortunately, the Columbia class were tough ships – even harder to destroy than the newer and smaller Valkyries. Nevertheless, that didn't make them even close to invincible.

"XO any word on the planetary defenses?"

Colonel Olgerlooked up from the console he was looking at. "We lost all the automation. CDC," which stood for Caprica Defense Command, "believes that they will have at least few satellites on manual control operational shortly – for as long as they last or the Cylons hit the laser transmitters."

"That might buy us a few more minutes. The stations?"

"The one above Caprica city already has a crew on board, however it was shut down before they could take out the CNP. We've been trying to raise it, but no joy."

Each colony had at least a handful of battle stations hovering above the capitals. The wealthier ones like Caprica, had more – above major population and industrial centers. Most of them were hulls from decommissioned ships with most internals ripped out, leaving a lot of space for additional weapons, ammunition and armor. While potent platforms, they had one big flaw – they were locked in orbit above the locations they were meant to defend, which made them an easy target. When all was said and done, those stations were more useful as morale boost than deterrent to any attacker.

Now, if a supposedly disabled station opened fire at the Cylons – it could hurt them – a lot. Yet, that wasn't something John could count on. For all he knew, either the crew would be unable to get the damn thing online or the Cylons were going to take it out ASAP.

Still, any missiles and Raiders going after the stationary defenses meant less weapons hammering his ships and thus more time for reinforcements to arrive.

"All Raptors are in position and advancing. Jump coordinates locked in and the drives are hot." Tactical announced.

"Good. Jump in sixty seconds." Demeter ordered. "Sent signal to the fleet. Torch."

This was going to be one long minute.

 **=CW=**

 **Battlestar Columbia**

 **High orbit above Caprica**

"Mad Dog evade!" A desperate warning came over the wireless.

"There are too many of..." The line went dead with a scream of static.

"Mad D...hsss..."

"Sir, we lost our last Vipers." The CAG stated flatly.

"When can we have more birds ready for launch?" Williams asked grimly. He knew what would happen to his outnumbered pilots, yet he didn't keep them back. There was no choice – the Columbia needed the Vipers additional firepower to blunt the firepower of the armada trying to kill her.

"We'll have two more birds ready in thirty." The CAG growled.

The Commander winced. That wasn't going to make any difference.

"Have the Raptors jump to the Alpha line. They're to execute combat landing and rearm when we pull back."

"Willco."

"We have hundreds Raiders and Heavy Raiders incoming." Dradis made a redundant report. "Multiple incoming missiles. Multiple inbound nukes."

Williams glanced at the clock next to the plot. Forty seconds. This was going to be bad.

"All guns, final defensive fire. Brace for impact. DC parties on stand by." The Commander ordered and went to the "nuclear"console and grabbed it for dear life. "I want a single nuclear missile ready for launch."

"Aye sir. Final defensive fire. Last Raptor is away. Firing for effect." The Weapons officer droned in a monotone – lost in his job and keeping calm only thanks to his training.

The old warships began to vibrate as every single weapon she possessed opened fire – creating a shield of steel against the incoming enemies and ordnance.

The swarm of red dots representing Raiders didn't care. They flew straight in – launching missiles and rounds all the way.

Demeter could imagine how it looked. A corona made by hundreds of detonating shells surrounded the Columbia. Each tiny explosion released either old fashioned shrapnel moving fast enough to shred both missiles and Raiders alike or the newer guided sub-munitions.

The Cylons were moving in too fast, at vectors making evasion hard to impossible, yet they were unlikely to care. Every missile that hit, every Raider that manages to ram the Columbia might just take a weapon emplacement or two out of commission, making it easier for the rest to go through.

Sooner or later a nuke would slip in, wrecking armor and obliterating weapons.

Then another and another, until the Battlestar was pounded to scrap.

And it began – the closest red dots started blinking out faster and faster as Raiders were wiped out by the dozens.

Thirty seconds.

"Hits in sectors one through three. PD degraded by five percent." DC control announced.

That had to be Raiders and light missiles – a ship-killer would have been felt even in the CIC which was buried deep within the Battlestar.

Columbia lurched to the side, nearly throwing everyone off their feet.

"Nuclear strike! Breaches on decks one through seven. Sections..."

"Forward PD degraded by fifteen percent. We lost turrets Alpha and Beta!"

Fifteen seconds.

"Seal those sections. Sent in DC." Williams was surprised how calm his voice sounded while he felt anything but. Not with his family on the ship that was getting pounded around him.

"RADIOLOGICAL ALARM! MULTIPLE NUKES INCOMING!"

"BRACE!" Karl shouted when the deck jumped under his feet. It felt like the gravity itself cut off for a moment, before returning with a vengeance. The only thing preventing him from slamming hard into the deck was his death grip on the console.

One of the marines guarding the CIC wasn't so lucky – the poor bastard was thrown by the initial impact, seemingly floated for a split second, before slamming into the deck.

"STATUS REPORT!" Williams shook his head and roared.

"We took at least couple of nukes..."

Columbia continued shacking as more and more missiles slammed into her armored form.

"Is the drive up?!" The Commander needed the most important piece of information.

"Jump's a go!" The Nav officer shouted back.

Williams slammed his fist on the nuclear launch button. "Jump now!"

The Battlestar vanished in a flash of light, leaving behind a present for the swarm of Raiders that two seconds later flew through the space she occupied. A much brighter flash followed announcing a nuclear detonation that incinerated hundreds of Cylons.

The Columbia re-appeared into real space with a lurch that made Karl slam his forehead into the console he was clutching for dear life. He shook his head in a futile attempt to chase off the stars dancing in front of his eyes and hissed as pain lanced straight through his brain.

"Report."

"We lost both pods. Hull breaches in multiple sections. Fire on decks one through fifteen, starboard quarter..." The DC officer groaned as she started listing the Battlestar's wounds.

"Tactical, status of the fleet? Did the Lion make it?"

"Unknown. Dradis is down. I'm trying to raise our Raptors for status update."

"XO you alive over there?" Williams asked while trying to keep track of the DC report. After there was no answer, Karl turned around and asked again. "XO?"

Colonel Olgerwas slumped nearby, with blood leaking from the side of his head.

"Frak. Medics to the CIC!"

 **=CW=**

 **Part 4**

 **Baseship 51**

 **High orbit above Caprica**

"FRAK THEM!" Cain roared in fury when all Colonial ships jumped away mere moments before they were swarmed to death by Raiders. Then he hissed as hundreds, no, thousands of Raiders simply vanished from the network.

The One took an instant, which was quite long for a Cylon in direct connection with a Baseship, to let his rage run its course. It helped that he had to wait for a moment so the network could recover from the combined loss of a small Raider armada, compile the fleet status and find where the frak did the Colonial ships went.

That gave Cain a moment to run over the last couple of minutes in his head. In hindsight it was obvious that even if the Colonials were going to make a last stand it wasn't going to be this far out – they were playing for time after all and that precious commodity was running out.

Ah. There. The sensors locked on the new enemy location – above Caprica city, in dangerous proximity to the so far inert defense satellites and the two disabled battle stations. A handful of Vipers were running towards the perceived safety of their mother ships, chased by the broken remains of the swarm that was supposed to kill the enemy capital ships.

Cain winced when the Hybrid finally gave him an estimate of the casualty list. While the Colonials had lost two third of their Vipers, which was one of the few "good" news the report revealed, the Raider force was gutted. Almost half of the dumb hunter-killers were wiped out by enemy nukes. More than eight thousand of them and that was just an estimate. The Heavy Raiders had fared much better – if you can call losing more than five hundred of them that…

Which Cain still might – if he actually won and burned Caprica to the ground.

The Cylon grit his teeth. Oh, he and the more reasonable among his kind knew – intellectually – that the Battlestars were better ships than the new model Baseships. That a stand up fight would be ugly.

The Plan, frak it with a Heavy Raider, Cavil too for that matter, was supposed to make sure there would be no real battles. No war to speak for – just a single devastating blow against an enemy who couldn't retaliate.

The One shook with rising fury against both his own model and the Colonials who simply refused to die. He sent orders to the fleet to redress the flanks while examining the enemy. Most of the Colonial ships were damaged – a few, like the Columbia, which was burning, heavy at that. Six of their number were outright destroyed, with many of the rest suffering various amounts of damage. Their combat capabilities were degraded.

In exchange, Cain had lost seven destroyed and eleven damaged Baseships – he could achieve worse exchange rate if he tried. Yet, The One had more than enough ships left to smash aside the remaining Colonials – if he was willing to suffer even more disproportionate casualties.

Even if a few of those defense satellites came online at the worst possible moment…

It didn't matter. Cain had to win. He had assets and had to leverage them no or lose everything.

Cain connected with the Heavy Raider sub-net and started issuing orders. Fully half of their numbers was going to jump at the edge of the atmosphere – behind the Colonials and go for planet based targets. The rest would wait until the Raiders and Baseships engaged the enemy fully, jump as close as they could and unleash their missile loads against both ships and the defense network.

Only when the orders went out and the fleet was finishing redressing its ranks, Cain had time to think and smile with relief – no one under his command contradicted his orders. No one asked for a vote in the worst possible time. If C&C fell apart at this critical time, it might mean the doom of them all.

He had to hope that God would ensure that the rest of the Cylons didn't frak up and went against their targets with vengeance instead of continuing with that voting insanity.

 **=CW=**

 **CIC**

 **Battlestar Ares**

 **Low orbit above Caprica**

Cain the Cylon wasn't the only one who went over casualty reports and wondered how to win. Admiral Demeter heard the rough damage reports from the fleet, the losses so far and found himself praying for a miracle.

This was the end of the line – he couldn't pull back any further. While he was glad that the Cylons went after his ships instead of Caprica, that wasn't going to last much longer – the kriffing toasters had the numbers to do both and still win.

"I should have pulled us out sooner." John muttered.

"Perhaps. Then the toasters would have a few thousand more Raiders to throw at us." His XO shrugged. "All planetary squadrons that could be mobilized in short notice are in the air. We have six hundred Vipers and two hundred Raptors taking position as we speak. Another few hundred are deploying as a CAP above the capital, military bases and other population centers."

"That might buy us a few more minutes." The Admiral sighed.

He looked back at the plot. The Cylon ships were assuming a phalanx formation while keeping a respectable distance from each other. A virtual wall of Raiders was taking position in front of them to screen the toasters from missile fire.

"Dradis – I'm not seeing their Heavy Raiders taking position in the formation. Give me a good look at them."

A new window opened, showing whole wings of the assault craft.

"Frak. Call CDC and inform them that they will have company any moment now."

"We can't intercept them." Zeus stated. "Even if we stripped all Vipers and sent them to protect the planet..."

"That would only see us killed faster and leave the Baseships alone to rain death too." Demeter shook his head. "Well, time's up." Demeter picked up the neares wireless communicator. "Give me a fleet wide." He looked at the Comm officer, who pressed a few buttons on his console and nodded.

"This is Admiral John Demeter. As we speak, the Cylons are coming for us. We are all that stand between them and the billions of innocent souls on Caprica. Between the soulless machines and every man, woman and child in the Colonies!" He paused for a moment. "We might be just a handful of damaged ships standing against oblivion and we will make sure that they will NOT PASS! Every second we hold them means more people reaching the shelters. More time for our comrade to rebuild their networks and come to our aid. There is only one thing I ask of you – stand tall, stand proud and make sure that not a single Cylon comes through our line as long as there is even a single Colonial soldier standing in their way!"

As he spoke, Demeter's eyes never left the plot. Groups of Heavy Raiders started blinking out just as the enemy fleet began advancing.

"The enemy comes for us. Let's give them hell!"

 **=CW=**

 **Estimated losses above Caprica:**

 **Colonials:**

Battlestars:

Mercury: Ares /mod damage/ Nemesis – light damage;

Columbia: Columbia - heavy damage;

Valkyrie: 1 destroyed; 1 heavy damaged; 2 mod. damaged;

Cruisers: 5 destroyed; most others suffer from light to heavy damage;

Vipers:550

Raptors:55

* * *

 **Cylons:**

Baseships:

Destroyed: 7

Damaged: 11

* * *

Raiders: 8951

Heavy raiders: 575


End file.
